


Picture Perfect

by lilserket



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Abuse, Acting, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Angst, Bad management, Character Death, Dark, Drug Use, Eating Disorders, Fluff, Happy Ending, Homophobia, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Modeling, Polyamory, Pretty Setter Squad, Running Away, Smut, Suicide Attempt, this is a fic about hitting rock bottom and getting better
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2018-12-31 04:37:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 27,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12124671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilserket/pseuds/lilserket
Summary: Fake laughs.  Fake smiles.  Fake relationships.  Fake image.  Fake personalities.Nothing is really, when you are picture perfect.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a fun fic for me to do. I don't know how long it'll be and I'll try to update it every sunday or every other sunday since the chapters will probably be shorter than normal??? Maybe??? lol

The blinding lights, the people crowding.  One placing gloss on your lips, another putting mascara on you, all while the hairdresser is fixing your hair.  The click of a camera from a cellphone to upload it onto social media.

 

Kenma hated it all.  He hated his life as a model.  A contract he was forced into by his parents when he was a child.  He watched as his vision grew dark, a hand coming into view as someone held open his eye, a contact placed into his eyes to make them larger.  He blinked hard once they were in, one of the makeup artist nagging at him for almost messing up her work as she lined his under eyes.  

 

“You should be used to contacts by now, stop moving.”

 

“You’re being a brat.”

 

“You should diet more.”

 

He listened to them make snide remarks to him as he was pulled from the chair, going straight towards the wardrobe, the designer’s words falling on deaf ears as he zoned out, letting them dress him like the doll he was.  He didn’t even know if he was partnered with anyone or not as they rushed him onto the set, yelling and screaming filling his ears.  His eyes landing on another model.  

 

Ah, so there was someone else.  Kenma walked towards the set.  The male was tall, short black hair, striking grey eyes.  He wondered if they were contacts or not.  The man gave him a small tired smile.

 

“Kenma,” he heard his manager call his name as the man came up to the too.  “This is Akaashi Keiji, he’s a new model under our management as well as one of your new housemates, I expect you to treat him well.”  He could see the tight but threatening smile on the man’s face as he stayed silent, only looking back at the model named Akaashi Keiji.

 

“Kozume Kenma,” Akaashi’s voice was quiet under the loud screams of the managers as he reached out a hand.  “It’s a pleasure to work with you.”

 

“You should have never joined this management,”  Kenma responded dully turning away from the other model, walking towards the grey screen, the other following him.  The lights flashed brightly as they posed.  He could feel Akaashi rest his arm on him at points when they changed positions.  The photoshoot was nothing special, it was one to show off him and Akaashi, to get the fans excited for an addition to the company.

 

When it was over they were both dragged away by different managers.  His hair being yanked out of the updo they hand it in.  Cloth rubbing at his face far to rough as his clothes were changed and he was placed back into the clothes he arrived in.

 

“You have another schedule today, hurry up.”

 

Kenma could barely keep his legs from giving out as he was shoved out of the dressing room and down the hall.  He caught a glimpse of Akaashi, their eyes meeting as he was shoved outside, almost tripping over a bump in the door.  God, he wanted this to end.  Maybe if he closed his eyes.  No.  It doesn’t work like that.

 

He stared out the car window as they drove, there was a crowd outside a building, he could see the signs reading “Oikawa Tooru”.  Oikawa, the famous model and actor, who’s won multiple awards.  His eyes trailed, seeing the actor outside, smiling, waving to his fans.  How could he be happy?  It must be a lie.  Everything is a lie in this business.  He tugged at his long sleeves, skinny fingers shaking even though the vehicle was warm.

 

“Oikawa Tooru,” his manager spoke suddenly, causing Kenma to stiffen before relaxing.  “He got his fame for playing a gay character in a movie and coming out as gay, if you did the same then your fame will skyrocket again, you would be on top of the world.”

 

Kenma felt his stomach twist.  He did like boys, but he didn’t want to force to date or act like it for fame.  Something had to be real in this life.  Don’t take that.  Don’t take his love life away.  “Is that why Akaashi is…”

 

“No.  We’ll find another model from another company, there are several out there hungry for fame, it’ll be perfect.”  

 

The model could feel the stomach acid coming up his throat as the manager reached out, stroking his signature two toned hair, rubbing the ends together before letting go as they reached their destination.  

 

Kenma got out of the car, the stylist rushing him inside, shoving him into the seat.  His eyes were going to be irritated by the end of the day.  He let out a displeased noise when one of the stylist accidentally got his eyes with the eyeliner.  He could hear her short apology as she continued without skipping a beat.

 

This photoshoot was different.  It was winter themed, as heavy jacket’s were pulled onto his body, a scarf wrapped around his neck as he was led out into the photoshoot area, fake snow on the ground, with a fake city to accompany it.

 

“It’s nice to finally work with the famous Kozume Kenma,” a voice spoke to the side of Kenma as he turned his eyes meeting Sugawara Koushi’s.  Oikawa Tooru’s boyfriend.  “It’s nothing…” he muttered his eyes going towards the ground, his fingers pulling at the sleeves of the coat.  Sugawara was equally as beautiful as Oikawa was.

 

“Don’t say that, you were a famous child model and grew up in the business and are still relevant to the world, I’m sure Tooru would love to meet you sometime as well, we should all hang out together,” Sugawara smiled brightly noticing the slight blush on the model’s face, as well as awkward air building between them.  He opened his mouth to speak again but Kenma’s manager yelling at the male made him clamp it shut, eyebrows furrowing together.  He could see Kenma’s body tense up before rushing away from him.

 

Kenma’s heart pounded as he got onto the set, Sugawara joining him.  They had to act like friends enjoying the snow.  His mouth straining into a smile and a fake laugh.  The other model did it naturally.  He frowned once the photographer asked for a break.  He could feel Sugawara’s eyes on him.

 

“You’re shaking, are you feeling okay?”  Suga asked frowning as he lifted a hand up to place it on the model’s forehead, snapping his hand back seeing the younger flinch.  

 

“Koushi!~ I’m here!~” Oikawa’s voice boomed through the set in a sing-song voice.  The model mentally cursed himself, watching the other retreat back to his manager.

 

Kenma hid in the corner, trying to pull away from the stylist fixing his makeup and hair.  His eyes focusing on the couple on the set, watching as pictures were taken of them for social media.  He didn’t want his love life to be public.  He didn’t want anything to be public.  He was able to breath again when the stylist left him alone, the photographer calling them back onto the set.  He walked stiffly seeing Oikawa’s eyes on him, examining him up and down before giving him a wink.  It made his heart skip a beat, reverting his eyes back down to the floor. 

 

The rest of the shoot had Kenma awkward.  Oikawa’s intense stare not helping at all as they continued for another hour.  His manager scolding him from the sidelines for looking scared instead of happy.  He wonders if he will be punished for it.  When the photoshoot ended he tried to leave quickly but Sugawara was faster, grabbing his sleeve.

 

“Wait, at least give me your number so we can plan time to hang out,” Suga asked him as his boyfriend walked up, arm coming around his shoulders.

 

“Wow, THE Kozume Kenma...I’m kind of jealous, you’re even prettier in person, but a lot skinnier in the face than I thought,” Oikawa spoke looking the young model up and down, though not able to see how thin he was under his clothes, he had an idea.  “Do you want to go get some coffee together?”

 

Kenma panicked, he could feel his manager’s eyes on him.  “I’m sorry, I can’t,” he turned them down, turning to walk away but Sugawara’s grip tightened on his wrist.

 

“Do you need to eat?  We could go somewhere to eat instead.”

 

Kenma’s eyes were wide as he stared down at Sugawara’s hand around his small wrist.  “No, I can’t,” he told them his body shaking as he tugged his wrist away, running from the pair while he could.  His manager’s voice filling his ears, nagging and scolding him, a hand on the nape of his neck squeezing hard.  His mind drifted to Akaashi Keiji.  He wondered how he was doing.  He wondered why he came to this company.

 

He could feel the couples eyes on him as the management ushered him out of the room.  The world was moving fast and in a blink of an eye he was back in the car, driving away from the building.  Out of everyone’s eye.

 

“Your performance today was awful, we’ll be lucky if there’s any photos we can use, are you trying to destroy Sugawara Koushi’s career?  You’re smart for not wanting to eat with them.  You must keep up your thin, innocent image, eating will just make people hate you, eating will make you ugly.”

 

Kenma listened to his manager.  He doesn’t think he could eat even if he wanted to.  If he did eat he’d just throw it back up.  

 

Time seemed to rush by as he stood in his apartment, shoes kicked off to the side as he stared at Akaashi Keiji lounging on the couch.  

 

“You’re so quiet I didn’t hear you come in,”  Akaashi spoke, sitting up on the couch looking at the other model.  “I guess we’re roommates now, let’s get along,” he gave a small smile seeing the discomfort in the other.  “Is something wrong?”

 

Kenma didn’t answer as he rushed into his room, closing the door.  He held his arms close, walking to his dresser.  He put on sweats what were too big for his thin hips and over sized hoody before walking back out of the room.

 

“I’m going to cook some food if you want anything,” the model told him, standing up stretching and yawning.

 

He could see the model’s abs peeking out from under his shirt.  He wonders if the company will treat him just as bad and make him sickly skinny like him.  “Why did you…” he paused as Akaashi looked at him. 

 

“Why did you join this company?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to add some characters, they aren't too important to Oikawa and Suga's story, but they are for Akaashi and Kenma's.
> 
> There is puking in this chapter towards the end.

“I need my check.”

 

“You ain’t gettin shit right now.”

 

“But it’s already three days past my payday, I need the check for the house payment and my mother’s hospital bill.”

 

“Tough luck, kid, if you don’t like it you can get outta here.”

 

Akaashi Keiji didn’t have the best life growing up.  His father passed when he was young, his mother and him struggling to get by with what money they had.  Now, twenty-one years into life his mother was placed in the hospital by a severe illness and on the brink of losing their house.  He wondered if it was all worth it.

 

“I’m quitting, I can find something better,” he told the shop owner, walking out, the rain pouring down on the sidewalk outside.  He had to find something better, for his mother.  He had to keep going.  For his mother.  

 

He looked around, unsure of where to go, where to start.  Maybe a night club would hire him, he could bring drinks to tables.  “Blue Moon is the closest to the house,” he told himself outloud.  That was it.  That’s where he was going to start his job search.  He stepped out onto the sidewalk, the rain turning into a light sprinkle as he walked down the street, pushing past crowds of people.  He turned down alleyways until he reached his destination.  

 

“ID kid?” the bouncer asked blocking the way.

 

Akaashi huffed, pulling out his wallet, showing the man, grey eyes watching closely as the bouncer check the ID.  He smiled taking it back, the man opening the door for him.  The music was loud, the ground was shaking from the base.  He glared at a drunken couple what had pushed into him, before squeezing to the bar.

 

“What can I get ya?” the bartender asked, walking over to him.

 

He looked the bartender up and down, eyebrows raising.  He had black and silver spiky hair.  He wondered how much money he wasted on hair dye alone.  “I need to speak to the owner,” he yelled over the music.

 

“Oooo?  Then you don’t want a drink?” the bartender asked with a slight pout. 

 

Akaashi frowned.  “I don’t have money to buy a drink, which is why I need to speak to the owner,” he told him, watching as another man appeared behind the bar, only he had black messy hair, as if he just rolled out of bed.  “The owner, please, I just want to talk to the owner.”

 

“Bokuto, don’t keep the kid waiting, look how distressed he is.”

 

“Ahh, Kuroo, you’re not one to talk with keeping people waiting.”

 

Kuroo grinned rolling his eyes as he turned to the boy at the bar.  “The owner is out right now, but if you go towards that door over there,” he paused pointing in the direction.  “You find a bouncer, tell him Kuroo Tetsurou sent you over and to take you to the boss’s room.”

 

Akaashi eye’d the two hugging onto each other but slowly left the bar towards the bouncer.  “Kuroo Tetsurou told me to come here,” he told him as the door was opened and he was lead down another hallway, the music muffled now as he was brought to an empty room, door closing behind him.  He looked around noticing pictures of a model.  “Kozume Kenma,” he recognized, there were picture’s from when he was a child to his most recent photoshoot.  He stared at the transition, noticing he was always fully clothed after the last two years.  He reached out on the frame on the desk, picking it up there was a boy with messy black hair next to Kenma.  “Kuroo Tetsurou.”

 

“That’s my name,” Kuroo spoke up, chuckling as the newcomer nearly jumped out of his skin, setting the picture frame back down.  “Kozume Kenma, was my best childhood friend, we stopped talking nearly two years ago before his picture’s started to look odd,” he walked around the room, pointing down the pictures.  “His face is different now, and he’s always wearing more clothes than usual, he hasn’t spoken to me in years and I haven’t seen him outside.”

 

“And you’re telling me your life story because?” Akaashi asked, eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

 

“You want a job right?”

 

“Yes, I was here to ask for a job.”

 

“If you go undercover and join the modeling agency Kenma is at and find out what’s happening there,  I will pay a hefty amount of money.”

 

“How about a normal job.”

 

Akaashi waited for a response before slouching his shoulders.  “But I need money now, my mother’s in the hospital needing treatment and we’re about to lose our house.”

 

“I’ll pay her medical bills and your house payments,” Kuroo blurted out as he wrote down an address and two cellphone numbers.  “This is the address to the modeling agency, these are mine and Bokuto’s numbers, please, please take this job.

 

“But why me?  Why not you.”

 

“Akaashi Keiji, was once a child model, then quit after his father’s death, went to school, held two jobs to help his mother, who was now at one point working in my father’s shop who he chose to leave and came here.  I was so hopeful that you would have and you did.”

 

Akaashi took a step back.  “You planned this?  You made me lose my job, had me come here, because I used to be in the modeling industry as a child.”

 

“Think of your mother, think of the money, think of exposing the industry, Akaashi, please,” Kuroo nearly dropped to his knees as he held out the paper. “Please, you bring my best friend back and I’ll take care of everything else, I’ll make sure your mother gets the right treatment.”

 

He stood there, deep frown on his face. “I’ll do it, just for my mother though,” he told him ripping the paper from his hands, before turning on his heel.  “But if anything happens, I quit,” he spoke before leaving the room, nearly running into Bokuto as he walked out the door.

 

* * *

 

Akaashi stood outside the modeling agency’s building, it wasn’t large, but it wasn’t small either.

 

**To: Kuroo**

I made it to the building I’m going inside.

 

**From Kuroo:**

You’re seriously the best…

 

He snorted at the text before putting his phone away.  Straightening himself he opened the door.  “May I help you?” a woman asked at the front desk.  “I was looking to see if I could apply for a modeling career,” he told her, giving her the best face he could.  Which seemed to work seeing her face flush lightly.  

 

“O-of course, step over here, let me take your picture and fill out these forms.”

 

Akaashi stepped over to a plain white wall, he stared at the camera as it flashed before turning, another flash, he turned to the other side, another flash.  “Now the forms,” he heard her say as he walked to the desk taking the clipboard and a pen.  He sat down checking off on the boxes that mattered, and the ones that didn’t.  Once done he walked back up, handing them back.

 

“Once the management looks it over we will call you and tell you if we want you or not, if so then come back here to sign the contracts and you will begin,” she told him as she put his files in a folder, setting them off to the side.  “Have a nice day.”

 

“You too,” he told her, leaving the building as he took out his phone.

 

**To: Kuroo**

I should be getting a call soon, I don’t know if I’m in or not yet.

 

**From:Kuroo**

You’ll get it, you have a bigger build than Kenma does, they’ll like the contrast.

 

Akaashi rolled his eyes.  The nightclub owner was very positive in this situation.  He walked down the sidewalk, his phone buzzing again.

 

**From: Bokuto**

Do you want to come eat with Kuroo and I?  We’ll pay.

 

He stared at the message, fumbling with his phone before answering back.

 

**To: Bokuto**

No thank you.

 

**From: Bokuto**

Q^Q Okay….

 

Akaashi sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he made his journey back to the subway.  He got his ticket and sat down waiting for his bus to show up.  Taking out his phone, he clicked through his contacts before finding the right one, calling it.  

 

_ “Keiji.” _

 

A voice answer, it was light and then there was coughing behind it.  “Mom...I have a new job...or at least I think I do, it’ll be able to pay for your hospital treatment,” he told her quietly not wanting to disturb those around him.

 

_ “You’re such a good boy Keiji, I’m so proud to have you as my so--”  _

 

He frowned as his mother was cut off by more, harder, coughs.  “I’m sorry for calling, you should be resting.”

 

_ “No, hearing your voice makes my stay less lonely, it reminds me why I’m fighting.” _

 

“I miss you.”

 

_ “I miss you too, once I’m out I’ll treat you to your favorite meal alright...I love you Keiji.” _

 

“I love you too, mom,” Akaashi whispered as the bus pulled into the station, he gave a final goodbye before hanging up, putting his phone in his pocket.  He stood, pushing past others to get on the bus, sitting close to the door.  He watched it close, the bus giving a jerk, which meant they were moving and he was going home.

 

* * *

 

Home was quiet, home was lonely.  Akaashi hated it as he flipped on the lights.  Barely anything has been touched since his mom was in the hospital, having been working as many hours as he could.  It was foreign to be home and not asleep somewhere else.  He kept his phone’s ringtone turned up as he awaited the call.

 

One day, turned into two days, two days turned into three, and soon a week had gone by.  Kuroo made due on his promise and paid the house bills and started to pay the hospital.  He had told Kuroo and Bokuto how grateful he was towards them.  

 

It wasn’t until the next week he had gotten the awaited call.

 

_ “Akaashi Keiji, you have an appointment on Friday, we hope to see you then.” _

 

His heart froze at the message before a burst of excitement surged through him, before reality hit.  This was a job in a job, he was suppose to be undercover to expose the company and to put Kuroo’s worry about Kenma to rest.  

 

* * *

 

Friday came faster than he wanted it to as he stood in front of the agency building.  He took in a deep breath before pushing the doors open.

 

“It’s nice to see you again,” the lady at the front desk smiled as she greeted him.  “The main manager of the company will see you shortly.”

 

He nodded going over to sit down.  Time passed before a man came down, dressed nicely telling him to follow.  He looked around as he did, there were people everywhere, some in a room editing photos, others filling out paperwork, others taking calls.  There were pictures of Kenma on the walls, as well as other models, but he believes Kenma is the longest running model in the company.  The one keeping them alive.  

 

Akaashi stopped short of a door, the man telling him to go inside.  He opened it quietly, stepping into the meeting room, there were at least three managers and some stylist sitting at the long table looking at him.  

 

“Akaashi Keiji, age 21,” a man in the center spoke reading from his files, before looking up at him.  “Remove your shirt.”

 

The male frowned, before taking off his shirt.  He has been working out for years, to take his mind off things at home, his abs weren’t amazing like a bodybuilder, but he at least had a nice four pack going.  “Turn,” he heard the man order as he turned around, he could hear whispers, something about his frame, his jawline, his muscles, his eye shape, his nose, his mouth, his waist size.

 

“Sign these papers and we will get started with your first photoshoot,” the man smirked sliding the papers across the table.

 

Akaashi put his shirt back on, walking up to the table he took the paper’s what read “contract” up at the top and a pen.  He read through the little print, frowning at some of it.  “The company can make you diet if it seems fit.”  “The company can do anything to your hair.”  “The company can make you work out more or less to keep your image.”  He didn’t agree with most of it, but this wasn’t about him.  He signed the contract before handing it back.

 

“It’s nice to work with you Akaashi.”

 

* * *

 

One thing he was never going to get used to was the makeup artist surrounding him, poking eyeliner around his eyes and eye shadow.  He could hear them talking about how attractive he was, and how he was built fit, but was still pretty.  He could hear scissor cut his hair and curl pieces of it, taming his already wave like hair.  

 

Akaashi moved quickly as they pulled him over to the stylist, dressing him a nice fitted coat, a scarf wrapped around his neck.  He looked at himself in the mirror as they added accessories to him until finally letting him go.  He walked with his manager down the halls to a large area, it was made to look like the city, with fake snow on the ground and fake snow blowing to fall down on top of him.  

 

He walked up to the set, holding his hands out as the fake snow landed in them before letting it fall to the ground.  He heard another door open as another dressed up male came towards him.  His eyes focused on the dyed two-toned hair and dull look in his eyes.  ‘Kozume Kenma,’ he thought as he stepped closer to the model. 

 

“It’s nice to be working with such an experience model,”  Akaashi smiled reaching out his hand, wide gold eyes staring at him blankly.

 

“Why, would you join this company.”

 

He almost didn’t hear him as their managers yelled at them to get ready.  He frowned when the model turned towards the photographer.  He’d ask about that later as the camera flashed and posed.  He posed a couple times not touching Kenma before wrapping his arm around the boys shoulders smiling down at him.  Though he could see the other’s smile was uncomfortable and forced.  He was clearly not happy being there.

 

Akaashi opened his mouth to speak to the male before clamping it shut hearing Kenma’s manager yell for him to “get back here,” as his own managers called for him.  He walked over to his, listening tell him that he was going to do solo shoots for social media in order to make the fans fall for him.

 

He was dragged back into the dressing room, changing into a plain shirt and pants, his makeup more natural looking.  He stood in front of a white wall posing.  Some were serious, some were fun ones with objects. His manager told him to take off his shirt and so he did, turning his back to the camera, his hands holding onto the front of his pants, elbow sticking out as he turned his head, flexing his muscles. 

 

“Lady killer, a new star is born,” the manager praised looking at the pictures on the computer screen.

 

Akaashi waited until he was told he could put his shirt back on before looking through the pictures.  They weren’t bad at all, if anything he looked really good.   He was almost pleased with himself.

 

“Alright, that’s enough for tonight, if the posts explode then you will make some personal social media’s for your fans, I’ll take you to your new home, get accustomed to it, the stylist will buy new clothes.”

 

* * *

 

Akaashi stared around the large apartment.  It didn’t seem bad to him, he expected to be living in a dump.  He looked around, noticing someone else lives here.  He went into one of the bedrooms, he saw video games spread out over the floor, some cat plushies and a cat pillow.  “Is this...Kozume’s room?” he wondered, pushing into the room, he found pictures on a desk, modeling pictures.  It was Kenma’s room.  That made things easier on him to be able to figure out whats going on.  

 

He left the room, shutting the door as he wandered to the kitchen.  That’s where he grew concerned.  There wasn’t much food, a bag full of ramen, some water, some snack like food that didn’t look like it was ever touched.  He opened the fridge and saw it just as bare.  Maybe he calls in for food.  ‘What if he doesn’t though,’ he thought remembering that the company was allowed to push them onto a diet.  This seemed like an extreme diet though.

 

There was a little market across the street, maybe he should go buy things from there.  Putting on his shoes, he left the apartment, walking across the street to the store.  He was able to find some items he could put into the ramen, some rice balls and more stuff to drink that wasn’t just water.  He began to walk to the counter before some apples caught his attention.  ‘Something healthy,’ he thought picking up a bag before placing it on the counter.  He took out his card once he was told the price, handing it over before.

 

Akaashi gathered his bags, walking back to the apartment complex.  He wandered if that broke rules on the contract.  No.  It should be fine, he wasn’t famous nor was he on a diet of sorts.  If they had a problem with they could take it up to him later.  

 

The apartment was still empty when he returned, walking to the kitchen he set the bags down, putting the food away.  Exploring farther he found an empty bedroom with clothes in it, more like workout and pajamas.  Perfect, because he didn’t have any of his own.  He changed into sweatpants and a t-shirt before heading into the living room, laying on the couch.  Turning on the TV he watched a movie until his roommate came home.

 

He didn’t hear the door open hours later until a shadow in the TV caught his attention.  He sat up quickly  “You’re so quiet I didn’t hear you come in,” he told him as he got up.  “I guess we’re roommates now, let’s get along,” he gave a small smile seeing the discomfort in the other.  “Is something wrong?”

 

Akaashi watched as Kenma ignored him, running off into his bedroom almost slamming the door.  He didn’t take offence to the silence, remembering how quiet he was on the set, except for the one sentence.

 

He watched the model come back out, hoodie and sweatpants on, looking tired and empty.  “I’m going to go cook food...if you want anything,” he spoke hesitantly as he moved to turn around.

 

“Why did you…”  

 

He paused looking at the male.

 

“Why did you join this company?”

 

Akaashi froze on spot.  Did he get caught?  Was Kenma suspicious of him.  “I’m doing it to pay for my mother’s hospital treatment and house bills,” he told him frowning when the model snorted.

 

“You’ll be lucky if you see any money after a year of being here,” Kenma told him, hands in his hoodie pockets as he went and laid on the couch, pulling a gaming device out of his pocket.

 

“What do you mean by that?” he asked walking towards the couch.

 

“I mean since you’re here though, maybe you’ll raise this company from the dead, maybe I can finally end it, I won’t have to be their money maker anymore.”

 

Akaashi quirked an eyebrow.  “Is the company not paying you?” he asked looking down at him.  “Are you forced to be here because you don’t have money?”

 

“And the contract.”

 

He frowned moving away from the couch.  “I’m going to make food, I’ll bring you some,” he barely heard the “don’t bother,” from the couch.  Maybe he already ate.

 

He cooked some of the ramen with eggs in it, taking it into the living room, some in a smaller bowl setting it in front of Kenma.  “I just want to make sure you aren’t hungry.”

 

“I’m not.”

 

“But at least eat a little.”

 

“Too full.”

 

“Just a bite.”

 

Akaashi jumped a little bit when the other model sat up on the couch hair in his face as he glared at him.  “Are you on a diet or something?” he asked seeing Kenma’s face change, something told him that he wasn’t on a diet.  “Don’t push yourself to eat if you don’t feel good,” he gasped out once the model took the small bowl of ramen, shoving a large amount of noodles into his mouth angrily.  

 

“I’mnotonadiet,” Kenma spoke his voice muffled by the food.  It was disgusting, the taste was disgusting, the smell was disgusting.  He couldn’t even swallow before rushing to the bathroom, slamming the door as he puked it back up.  He felt disgusting with himself, as stomach acid came up, his stomach felt like it was on fire as tears burned his face.

 

“Kenma,” Akaashi knocked frantically on the bathroom door before opening it.  “Kenma!” he yelled out rushing to the model puking, pulling back his hair.  He patted and rub his back trying to calm the model down.  “I’m sorry, if I would have known you weren’t feeling well I wouldn’t have pushed you into eating.”

 

“It’s fine,” Kenma spoke with a shaking voice as he pushed Akaashi away from him, standing up.  “Leave please.”

 

He didn’t have to ask him twice as he shuffled out of the bathroom, the door closing behind him.  Was he really sick though, always wearing long sleeves and pants in pictures.  ‘It can’t be that it has to be something else,’ he thought ignoring the itching feeling of a eating disorder.  It couldn’t be that.

 

Akaashi sat on the couch, food forgotten as he stared at the TV, the bathroom door opening as Kenma went and sat on the other end of the couch curling up.  “Do you have any friends?” he spoke suddenly, seeing Kenma stiffen.

 

“I did,” Kenma spoke quietly as he took out his 3DS, turning it back on.  

 

“What happened?”

 

There was a silence except for the TV and video game music.  “The company took my phone.”

 

Akaashi sat back on the couch.  That’s why he hasn’t spoken to Kuroo.  “Why?”

 

“I’m a failing model they want to both get rid of and bring fame to.”

 

His lips pursed together, that almost sounded like a threat of murder.  He opened his mouth before noticing Kenma’s attention was on the TV, he turned looking at the two on screen.  Oikawa Tooru and Sugawara Koushi.  “Ah, the famous couple.”

 

“I met them today,” Kenma blurted out.  “I met them and ran off...the company wants to try and have us do photo shoots together, but Sugawara is suspicious.”

 

“Suspicious of what?”

 

Again silence fell between them as they watched the couple.

 

“Do you think their relationship is real or fake?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will either be Oikawa's back story or Suga's I'm not sure yet~ I might put them together though too
> 
> lilserket.tumblr.com  
> lilserketfics.tumblr.com


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a fic about hitting rock bottom, breaking away from the one causing the abuse, and getting better

_ “What a beautiful young boy.” _

 

_ “He would make you millions.” _

 

_ “His looks rival that one child model, Kozume?” _

 

_ “Think of the money.” _

 

Oikawa Tooru was only ten years old when his parents signed his life away to a small modeling agency.  One what wanted to be bigger.  They promised money and fame, all he got was lack luster modeling gigs and an empty pocket.  He knew his family fell into debt, and suddenly he was held into the agency against his will, threatening to end his family if he had tried to run, but if he made it big then his family would live in luxury.  

 

Oikawa Tooru was twenty-four when he hit big, after “THEE” Kozume Kenma faded into the shadows.  He did everything to stay in the spotlight, even for things he didn’t want to do.

 

“Hold her around the waist.”

 

“Act like you’re taking off her bra.”

 

He hated it, he hated being used as a sex object, but sex sells in the industry and if getting almost naked on camera was going to rake in money then he’ll continue to do it.  

 

Oikawa stared at himself in the mirror of his apartment in nothing but his boxers, holding a beer bottle in his hands.  He hated this fake life.  He lifted the beer bottle up, losing his balance, drunk from all the alcohol he consumed.  “I hate you!” he yelled angrily throwing the bottle at the mirror, watching both glass shatter to the ground, hot, angry tears streaming down his face.  “Ugly, ugly, ugly,” He chanted stomping on the broken glass, blood leaking onto the floor.  It took him a while to register that the blood was his, he screamed when a hand was pressed against his back.  Forgetting someone else was with him.  A girl, a model, the model he posed with today.

 

“Get out,” he told her in a growl.

 

“What? I’m not leaving you in this state!”

 

“Get out!”  Oikawa screamed wobbling backwards, his other foot bleeding.  “Get out! Get out! Get out!” he continued screaming, watching as the girl left.  He snarled shoving the base of the full body over, his feet were burning, his eyes were burning, his head was pounding.  He felt like he was going to be sick.  He couldn’t do this anymore.  He couldn’t.  Reaching down he picked up a piece of the mirror before walking to the couch, the TV was still on as he pressed the glass drunkenly to his wrist.  Tears burning his eyes ready to slice the skin, only to stop when a familiar face appeared on the screen.  The model had silver hair and a beauty mark under his eye.  Sugawara Koushi.  A model in his company but had never seen with how large it had grown.  He was suppose to meet him tomorrow, do a photoshoot together.  

 

He couldn’t do it in the end.  Tossing the glass on to the floor.  He was to tired to deal with the glass in his foot, to tired to deal with the blood and the mess, he would do that tomorrow.  Laying down on the couch he let the alcohol consume him, seeing Sugawara’s smiling face on the camera before slipping to sleep.

 

* * *

 

Oikawa stood uncomfortably on his feet the next day, having woken up and staggered his way to the bathroom, removing each piece of glass in his feet.  He could barely remember what had happened, except for the face on TV, the face that saved him.  The face that was currently smiling at him as the stylist put them in the clothes they were to model in.

 

“Suga…” he started as the silver haired model smiled, walking over to him.

 

“It’s nice to finally meet you Oikawa,” Suga’s blinding smile was refreshing as they made small talk with each other until the photographer called them onto the set.  

 

The setting wasn’t exactly sexy, but the tight black pants they had Suga wear should be considered a sin, now if only he could take off the white shirt.  No. Think, Oikawa.  He shifted his eyes towards the camera, wrapping around the other model’s shoulders leaning over.  They were suppose to look like greasers or something, he didn’t really pay attention, but the photographer fell in love with them, and he fell in love with his partner, the angel that saved him.

 

“You’re still staring,”  Suga pointed out as the traveled back to Oikawa’s apartment, having spoken to their managers to let them spend the night together.

 

“I’m sorry, you’re just...is your hair natural?”  Oikawa asked a small blush on his face, Sugawara wasn’t a model dubbed “pretty” because of his hair, he would never understand that.

 

“It is...the fans want me to dye it black, they think I’ll become more beautiful then.”

 

“Don’t.”

 

“I’m not going to...I like my silver hair, even if that means not becoming a popular model, I still get gigs here and there,”  the silver haired model laughed as the car came to a stop.  They got out, Oikawa fumbling for his apartment room key as they stepped into the building, carrying Suga’s bag for him.

 

“I...just so you know, there’s a lot of alcohol in here, and if you don’t want to drink we won’t,” he rambled unlocking the door letting the other in first before closing and locking the door.

 

“No, we should drink...in celebration for being stuck in this company together,” Suga was still smiling through his words as the other dropped the bag in a corner out of the way.  

 

“You have problems here too?” he mentally slapped himself.  Of course he did, he wouldn’t have said that otherwise.  They stood in silence before excusing himself to the kitchen, he grabbed two beers returning to the couch where the other was sitting comfortably.

 

Several beers and vodka later, they were both a babbling mess.  Suga crying from laughing, Oikawa was a mix of feelings.  “I hate this company you know?  They promised me fame when I was a child, so my parents could live comfortably, you know what happened?  My parents live in poverty, I don’t even know if they’re getting money like they were suppose too, I should have never joined this company then maybe life would be better,” he hissed through his teeth, fist shaking.

 

“You’re not famous?  You’re pictures are everywhere though, even on TV, you made this company huge, what more do they want?”

 

“International fame.”

 

They sat there in drunken silence, before Suga broke out into giggles.  “You know what would make you big...make US big?” he asked reaching for his phone.  “Coming out as a couple.”

 

The words filtered through Oikawa’s brain.  “Without the companies….” his voice trailed off before smiling wide.  “You know...fuck this company,” he spoke loudly seeing the other male pull up his camera with cute filters on it.  

 

He didn’t know how many pictures they had taken, how many they had uploaded, because the phone had long been dropped, Sugawara shuffling in his bag before pulling out another bag.  “Do you want to know how I stay sane in the company?  How I free my mind?” he heard the other asked, the shaking of something in the bag caught his interest as the model sat back down on the couch.

 

Oikawa stared at the pills on the coffee table.  “What is all this?” he asked looking at them.

 

“They aren’t just pills...they’re drugs...mostly ecstasy.”

 

That shocked him.  He didn’t take Sugawara as a drug addict, not with how he looked or his angelic smiles.  “When did you start…”

 

“Just a couple years ago, I don’t crave them, it’s just a stress release,” Suga explained as he picked up two pills in both hands.  He reached over, holding one out to the other.  “Try it...you’ll feel so good...sometimes the effects are sexual though...at least mine are...maybe I won’t take one, so I can help if you get a bad trip,” he rambled, placing his pill down.  “Don’t push yourself to take it eith--”  his words were cut off as the other put it in his mouth and swallowed.

 

“No going back now,”  Oikawa laughed as he waited for the effects, anything to break free from the company, even just for an hour.

 

Sugawara was prepared for a bad trip, it happens to a lot of first time users and causes difficulties for them afterwards.  To his luck though, Oikawa was handling it well, he could see him moving in the chair, as if wanting to dance, though there was probably music in his head.  “Oikawa,” he called out, the other looking at him, his skin looked feverish, trailing down.  Oh.  His own face flushed.

 

“It’s hot,” Oikawa moaned, his mind foggy, his clothes making his skin sensitive as colors danced in front of his eyes, he could see the other model in his vision, smiling.  “This is fun,” he laughed biting onto a finger suddenly causing him to jump.

 

“You have to be careful, you can bite your tongue off,” Suga’s face flushed further when the model took his finger into his mouth more, sucking on it.  “I-I need my finger back now,” he stammered pulling it out, but not fast enough to not hear the “pop” what went with it.  “It’s hot,” he heard the model repeat this time hands on his chest, shoving him down onto the couch.  Suga swallowed as Oikawa sat between his legs, leaning over him.  “What are you thinking right now?”

 

“I’m horny, and I want to get off, my skin is sensitive as fuck and everything is great,”  Oikawa giggled leaning his head down into the crook of Sugawara’s neck.

 

The older bit into his hand from keeping any noises escaping, feeling the younger’s breath ghosting over his neck.  “I’m not touching you, I’m not going to do anything while I’m still tipsy and you’re on drugs...I don’t want to do anything to ruin..something we might have,” he explained trying to move his hands under Oikawa’s chest, realizing he was being laid on by dead weight.  “Oh...you fell asleep,” he couldn’t help but laugh, now he would touch him though, brushing a hand through his chocolate brown hair until he fell asleep as well.

 

* * *

“What is this?  Who gave you permission to upload these photo’s? Do you know what you could have done, you could have ruined your careers!”

 

Oikawa rolled his eyes hearing his manager yell at him as he spun a pencil between his fingers.  “Buttttt,” he dragged out the word as the manager huffed.

 

“But, you and Sugawara both have gotten a wave of new followers, while news reporters keep calling and magazines, so you’ll need to keep whatever THIS, relationship is.”

 

“THIS relationship is nothing, it’s for the public,” the model told the guy, his heart squeezing, that hopefully wasn’t going to be true for too long.  He thinks he would like to have a real relationship with him..

 

“This is perfect, as the relationship builds we can add on drama, more drama, more fame, more scandals, more fame.”

 

“Even if the publicity is bad?”

 

“There’s no such thing.”

 

That’s how Oikawa ended up in front of a press with Sugawara by his side, hands linked tightly together, smiling at each other.  Most of the response was positive, with some negative thrown in.  Magazines were calling them the “couple we want to last” after a few months of their fake dating.

 

Sugawara was constantly at Oikawa’s apartment at night, laughing together in a drunken state, drugs laid out on the table.  They danced together to their own music, laughing as they stumbled over each other, Oikawa landing on top of Suga.  Their faces close together.  He didn’t even think about it before leaning down, pressing their lips together.  Feeling hands tangle in his hair made him braver, biting his lower lip.  Their tongues played together, soft moans escaping both their lips before Oikawa was suddenly pushed away.  Sugawara curling in on himself as tears fell down his face.

 

He was confused.  One moment they were having fun, the next the older model was crying.  He maybe drunk but he knew that was something else.  His stomach sank as Suga repeatedly apologized to him, over and over again.  Though he didn’t press on what it was about.  He didn’t want to know if the other wasn’t going to tell him.

 

So they continued on with their fake relationship. 

 

* * *

 

_ “I saw Kozume Kenma today...actually we’re still getting ready for the shoot.” _

 

“Did you?  What does he look like?”  

 

_ “Come to my shoot and see him for yourself...I’m worried.” _

 

Oikawa frowned as he looked at the clock before hanging up the phone.  It wasn’t normal for Sugawara to be worried about another model, especially not one from another company.  ‘It must be serious,’ he thought pulling on his jacket, and calling for a manager to take him to photoshoot spot.

 

When he arrived at the set he could see Suga talking to a small male with dyed two toned hair, his stance was uncomfortable.  “Suga,”  he sang wrapping his arms around his fake lovers waist, kissing his cheek.  “Oh, I’m finally meeting “thee” Kozume Kenma,” he smiled watching the male back away, the manager calling for him.

 

“Wait!” Suga yelled grabbing Kenma’s wrist.  “What’s your phone number?  Do you want to go get something to eat?” he asked trying to keep his eyes on the male’s.

 

“I can’t,” they heard the model whisper before pulling away, rushing towards their manager.

 

Oikawa could feel the older stiffen in his arms.  “Something wrong?” he asked noticing him staring at the hand he had wrapped around Kenma’s wrist.

 

“I...my hand wrapped around his wrist,”  Suga’s mouth parting slightly, looking to where the faux blonde ran off too.  

 

“Maybe he just has skinny wrist?”

 

“I’m going to talk to the company to set up a photoshoot with him, maybe we can see what’s going on.”

 

* * *

 

“You’re not Kozume,”  Oikawa frowned at the short black haired model in front of him.

 

“Ah...no...the management said he had prior events to attend too, I’m Akaashi Keiji,” Akaashi help out his hand, the two older models staring at it before Sugawara shook his hand.

 

“It’s nice to meet you, I’m excited to work with a new model...I assume you’re new?” Suga smiled as the other nodded.

 

It wasn’t until later they had gotten Akaashi alone.  Asking him personal questions about Kenma, all he didn’t know.  “So he doesn’t talk?” Oikawa asked as the young model nodded.  “And you don’t see him eat and he throws up at night?” another nod.  

 

“The company says he’s just ill, he has medicine but it’s expensive so he doesn’t take it regularly.”

 

“Have you seen the medicine?”

 

“I...no...but I haven’t gone through his stuff,” Akaashi defended himself looking between the two.  “Don’t worry, you’re not the only one worried about Kenma…”

 

Oikawa looked towards Sugawara seeing him deflate.  “Maybe we can invite them over to my apartment?”

 

“Kenma won’t leave the apartments.”

 

_ “Then we’ll go to yours.”  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lilserket.tumblr.com  
> lilserketfics.tumblr.com


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is gonna hurt.
> 
> I did add a tag, please don't ignore it, for this chapter.
> 
> also: past daisuga

Sugawara Koushi was living life to fullest, having joined a small modeling company after high school.  His high school boyfriend still by his side, pushing him to do his best as he himself went to college for business.  His looks had a mixed reaction.  He didn’t look like the average person, his hair had turned gray in elementary, a mole under his eye.  Everyone wanted him to dye his hair black, but his boyfriend pushed to keep it natural.

 

“You’re more beautiful that way.”  

 

He had told him every time, the comments got harsher and harsher.  

 

“Daichi, I don’t think I can continue this career path,” Suga told his boyfriend biting his lip, tapping his finger on the coffee table looking at the fan letters, one opened and left out, small drops of fresh blood on the paper, a hidden razor was in the opening spot.  

 

_ “What?  But you love acting and modeling, you’re even getting bigger, people are accepting your looks now.” _

 

He stared at the razor blade, and the daunting letter what came with it, hearing his boyfriend speak through the phone.  “Yeah, I just wish we could be together, in public, but I know you don’t want that attention while in college,” he sighed pushing the letters away, hearing his boyfriend chuckle on the other end of the line.

 

_ “I’ll be around this weekend if you can sneak out, we can go do something together at night, when barely anyone is outside, how does that sound.” _

 

“That sounds great...I’ll see you soon.”

 

_ “Don’t stay up late tonight, I love you, goodnight.” _

 

“I love you too, goodnight,” Suga’s voice got quieter as the line went dead.  He should tell his managers about the razor in the fan letter.  He’s never had to deal with something like that before, it needed to stop before something worse happened.

 

* * *

 

“It’s nothing to be worried about.”

 

“That’s how this industry works.”

 

“Just ignore that fan, it was only one time.”

 

Sugawara stared at himself in the mirror, his manager’s words playing through his head as the hairstylist tugged on his hair and scalp, his makeup already done for filming.  One time turned into two times.  The second time there were knocks at his apartment door.   The third time a car stalked him to his photo-shoot destination.  

 

“You need more emotion!”  the director yelled as he stood in front of the actress he was working with for a drama, his part wasn’t big, but it was enough to bring in more fans.  He dug deep, remembering the crazed fan.  He got angry.  Yelling his lines at the actress, growing more frustrated as he yelled until she was storming off and the director yelled ‘cut,’ congratulating him on the spot on raw emotions.

 

The scene made his popularity rise, it made him more and more uncomfortable.  He had more fan letters, more stalkers following him.  It was harder to keep his and Daichi’s relationship secret.  He had to change his account passwords once a week, maybe more sometimes.  It made him paranoid.  Where were they?  Were they watching him now in his apartment room?  

 

Still the management ignored his pleas for help, to make a statement.  “It was a good thing,” they had told him, invading his privacy, getting more pictures outside of photo-shoots.  

 

“I can’t handle this anymore Daichi, it’s suffocating, they’re everywhere I feel,” Suga told his boyfriend, as they held hands under a table at a restaurant eating together, he could feel his thumb rubbing over his knuckles gently.

 

“But what can you do?  You’re under contract, you’ll have to go through a lot of legal battles, and even then the court can side with the company,” Daichi frowned looking at his boyfriend, his eyes castes down, looking at the glass of water.  “If you want to try it, then I will be behind you one-hundred percent, you know that,” he added squeezing his hand tighter under the table.

 

“Would it be worth it in the end, what if the company gets mad, what if they take my phone away, what if they punish me,” the model shook at the thought, even now, sneaking out of his apartment without a manager with him would cause trouble already.  “Can’t I become a missing person?” he asked using his free hand to rub his tired eyes.

 

The younger sighed letting his boyfriend’s hand go, looking out the window as the waitress gave them the check.  “They would find you, you know that, if they can seek you out just from pictures online, then they can seek you out now too,” he placed his credit card on the bill, handing it back to the waitress.  “We need evidence of them mistreating you, for the court.”

 

Suga nodded slowly, watching the waitress reach across the table handing the credit card back to Daichi before getting up from the table, walking outside.  “Let’s go for a walk, no one is around this later,” he heard the younger suggest as he took his hand in his.  “Do you get jealous...when I kiss those actresses on TV?” he asked suddenly as they walked away from the restaurant, hand in hand.  His heart skipping a beat when his boyfriend laughed.

 

“Jealous?  You’re mine and that’s just acting, I have nothing to be Jealous about when, in the end, I’m the one with you here with me, hand in hand, and,”  Daichi paused stopping in his tracks, leaning down to quickly steal a kiss from his model boyfriend.  “And I get to do that,” he gave a goofy smile as someone pushed a trash can over behind them.

 

Suga jumped closer to his boyfriend turning around, there was a group of four he counted staring at them.  They had poles and bats with them.  He felt his heart tighten, feeling Daichi pull his hand, walking quickly away, the group following them before breaking out into a run.  “It’s them,” he panicked, his crazed fans.  “Daichi, we need to lose them!”

 

“I know, I know,” Daichi breathed out running away with his boyfriend, the group closing in behind them, some faster than the others.  There was one they didn’t see though.

 

Time seemed to slow down as a bat swung around the corner.  Sugawara’s eyes widening in horror as he watched his boyfriend fall to the ground, the fan striking him straight in the head.  “Daichi!” he cried out as one of the crazed fans grabbed him.  

 

“Why are you with him.”

 

“We were the ones trying to get your attention.”

 

“He doesn’t love you like we do.”

 

“You shouldn’t hide things from your fans.”

 

“This is your fault.”

 

“Stop!”  Suga screamed, tears falling from his eyes as the poles and bats came crashing down on his boyfriend.  “Please stop, oh my god, you’re going to kill him!” he cried out trying to break free from the others hold.  “Stop! Stop! You’re killing him!” his cries turning to sobs watching his boyfriend’s body go limp, but the brutal violence continuing.  He was sure he could see blood spurting out now with each hit, blood covering the road, blood seeping out of his head.  “Please, we need to call help,” he pleaded, rambling, tears streaming down his face as his captive shoved him towards his boyfriend’s body.  He dropped to his knees as the crazed fans laughed at him, calling his face cute, that they would do it over again.  Shakingly he got his phone out, his mind racing as he called the police.

 

Of course the crazed fans were long gone by the time help arrived.  The paramedics drug him to the side, no one was telling him anything.  Why weren’t they helping his boyfriend.  His boyfriend is dying!  Why is nobody helping!  “Please, please, please!” he pleaded, a heavy blanket wrapped around his shoulders not realizing he was rocking back and forth, his chest heaving when a long car pulled up.  He was going to puke.  “Please, he’s not dead!  He’s not!” he cried out watching them pull out the white sheet, watching them cover his boyfriend’s body.  He felt another sob break through his burning throat.  They were wrong he wasn’t dead.  

 

He wasn’t.

 

* * *

 

Sugawara didn’t remember when he got the drugs, they seemed to appear in his apartment room, he didn’t know what they were but he needed to get away.  He needed an out, so he grabbed his bottle of water and one of the pills from the bag, he swallowed it, washing it down with water before crashing onto his couch.  The news was on, stories about the murder, no names were mentioned, because Daichi didn’t die.  His mind seemed to feel foggy, his eyes site blurring in and out.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“Waiting for you,” the model smiled looking towards his bedroom, his boyfriend standing in the doorway his arms crossed over his chest.  “They think you’re dead, yet you’re right here,” he giggled standing up from the couch, he walked over to his boyfriend.  “You have to go study in the states soon right?  You have to come back for me okay?” he smiled, leaning forward he pressed a kiss on the younger’s lips before pulling away.  “I’m going to miss you...be sure to text me okay?” 

 

“I will, don’t worry.”

 

Suga frowned watching as his boyfriend moved past him.  “Are you leaving already?” he asked the younger turning towards him nodding.  “I love you, don’t forget that okay?”

 

“I love you too.”

 

He smiled wide watching as his door opened and closed, leaving him alone, the world was different colors, music in his head.  He picked up his phone typing in it.

 

**To: Daichi~**

I love you, don’t worry, I’m going to continue modeling!

They’re giving me a new partner.  Oikawa Tooru!

Be safe in America.

 

Placing the phone down, his eyelids grew heavy.

 

* * *

 

**To: Daichi~**

The company thinks Oikawa will be good for me

 

**To: Daichi~**

Oikawa isn’t that different, he has problems in the company too

 

**To: Daichi~**

How is America?  You must be studying hard

 

**To: Daichi~**

I miss you, I wish you would call me

 

**To: Daichi~**

Oikawa is an Alcoholic, he said I’m a druggy, but whats worse?

 

**To: Daichi~**

Do you not love me anymore?

 

**To: Daichi~**

Oikawa and I almost did something I would have regreted.

I didn’t cheat on you! I would never!

 

**To: Daichi~**

There’s a boy I’m worried about named Kozume Kenma.

He doesn’t talk and my hand fit around his wrist.

Should I do something?

 

**To: Daichi~**

I’m going over to Akaashi Keiji’s apartment, he shares one with Kozume.

I hope it’s nothing.

 

**To: Daichi~**

Everything’s fucked up.

 

**From: Daichi~**

The number you have texted is no longer in service.

 

**To: Daichi~**

I miss you, please come home soon.

 

**From: Daichi~**

The number you have texted is no longer in service.

 

**To: Daichi~**

I love you.

 

**From: Daichi~**

The number you have texted is no longer in service.

 

* * *

 

Akaashi stared around the living room.  Oikawa and Sugawara were on the couch talking between themselves, he turned to look at Kenma’s closed door.  “I’m sorry, really, I know you want to talk to him, but he’s usually like this, well...he’s usually out here curled up somewhere playing his games,” he rubbed the back of his neck as he walked over to the closed door, knocking on it.  “Kenma, we have quest that want to see you, it’s rude to stay in there,” he called through the door, he backed up hearing shuffling.

 

“It’s okay, he doesn’t have to come out, we can talk to you instead,”  Suga smiled watching as the younger model came over sitting on a chair.  “So you’re new to the business?  What made you join?” he asked facing Akaashi, he felt Oikawa shift, pushing one of his legs out, squishing it between himself and the back of the couch.

 

“My mother’s very ill...I’m doing it to pay for her medical and hospital bills,” the younger model explained looking at the two, watching the silver haired one periodically check his phone, typing something, then checking again, someone answering him right away.

 

Oikawa snorted as he shifted again.  “You expect modeling to pay for that?  You’re going to be lucky to even have money to spend on right now,” he told him, pausing as the bedroom door opened quietly, a hooded figure moving into the living room, a faint sound of a video game could be heard.

 

“Kenma,” Akaashi called out, the male seeming to jump in spot, obviously not paying attention.  “Come sit in the living room with us, don’t you want to make friends?”

 

“...not really,”  Kenma’s voice was quiet as he walked into the living room, he sat on the floor, bare feet pressed together, toes wiggling as he played his game.  

 

“But we’re all in the same boat as you,” Oikawa hummed leaning up now.

 

“No you’re not.”

 

Suga frowned, grabbing onto Oikawa’s arm, knowing the model had a short temper.  “What he means is, we all have issues with the company and we all want free...I know...there’s something you are hiding,” he watched the faux blonde curl in on himself.  “You’re wrist, they aren’t natural that small...are they?” The look Kenma was giving him was chilling as the sound of a person dying came from the game, the look turning angry than annoyed.

 

“You made me lose my game,”  Kenma grunted as he stood up, walking towards the bedroom, Akaashi’s hand stopping him.

 

“Are you feeling better?  You’ve been sick for a while and haven’t touched the medicine I bought you,” Akaashi asked eyes burning into the others, putting him on spot.  

 

“I’m fine...thanks,” the blond shook him off before retreating back into his room.

 

“Well...that didn’t do anything...what about you Akaashi...has the company been treating you well?”  

 

“He’s new, and I’ve heard he’s already passing Kenma in followers, he’s going to be fine, the companies only care about the ones what are “in”, they could careless about Kenma, but since he still brings them money, they’re probably trying to get rid of him slowly,” Oikawa shrugged leaning back against the couch again.

 

“What do you mean slowly?” 

 

“Death,” the brown haired model yelped as he got smacked in the thigh.

 

“Don’t listen to him, a company wouldn’t purposely kill a model,” Suga sent a glare towards Oikawa before smiling at Akaashi.  “You live here with Kenma, is there anything odd?  Anything that can help us put evidence together to sue the companies, together.”

 

“Well…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lilserket.tumblr.com  
> lilserketfics.tumblr.com


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back~ 
> 
> This is just the calm before the storm. Though the next chapter will also probably be the calm before the storm too.
> 
> (To be honest though, I haven't looked at this fic for so long I might have repeated stuff in this chapter, but I don't think I did because I did a small time skip forward..not major, just like a week later time skip)

Akaashi stood outside the hospital.  Finally getting the nerve to see his mother after taking the undercover model job from Kuroo.  He walked in, to his surprise Kuroo and Bokuto were there.  “Ahm,” he coughed, the two males turning towards him.  

 

“Oh hey, we didn’t know you were coming, we just came to check in on your mother,” Bokuto smiled wide, while Kuroo’s smile was small, soft.  

 

“You visit my mother?” 

 

“We do,” Kuroo confirmed walking towards the younger male.  “She’s a very nice woman, I think she’ll be happy to see you.”

 

“What room is she in?” he asked looking around the entrance of the hospital.

 

“Room 232,” the club owner pointed in the direction.  “You’ll go into the elevator and turn left, her room will be on the right.”

 

Akaashi nodded giving a small smile.  “Are you coming up?” he asked understanding when they told him they would rather him have alone time.  “Thanks, for everything, I’ll send you an update on Kenma when I’m back in the apartment,” he waved them good-bye, turning on his heel, walking in the direction of the elevator.

 

The trip was short as he reached his mother’s room.  He stared at the door, chewing on his lower lip.  He wondered how she looks like now. His hand reached out, touching the cold handle before twisting it.  His heart fluttered, seeing his mother sitting up reading a book.  “Mom,” he spoke quietly as the woman looked up and smiled.  He couldn’t help but notice how her hair has thinned.  Her face much slimmer.  Her frame reminded him of.  ‘Kenma,’ the model’s name flashing in his eyes.  

 

“Keiji,” She spoke, voice raspy as she set her book down.  “Your friends tell me how hard you are working,” she smiled patting the bed next to her.

 

Akaashi felt a lump in his throat, forcing it back down as he walked further into the room, sitting down on the bed.  “I’m working hard for you, to make you better,” he told her, reaching out to hold her hand.

 

“I know dear, I must be special, to have a son like you,” his mother spoke quietly, holding his hand back, giving it a small squeeze.  

 

The lump came back in his throat, he torn his eyes from his mother’s looking towards the wall, collecting himself.  Why did he feel like this was the start of a countdown.  A countdown until he would no longer visit her in a room.  No, he shouldn’t think like that.  Kuroo is doing everything he can to pay the doctor’s a lot of money to make her better.  Maybe he should push to help Kenma get better, for Kuroo’s sake.  

 

“You seem troubled,” his mother squeezed his hand harder.  “I have a friend,” Akaashi whispered, clearing his throat.  “He’s...in trouble...he’s sickly thin and I haven’t seen him eat since I met him, I can wrap my hand around his wrists...I’m concerned,” he told his mother looking back towards her.

 

“Oh...maybe he’s going through some troubles...you know Keiji, when I worked for a hospital back before you were born, I saw a lot of different people walk through the doors, for different reasons, alcohol, drugs, suicide, eating disorders, sexual assault, abuse, self harm...if he is how you say he is, then maybe it is a eating disorder...you should bring him here, let me see for myself.”

 

“I can’t do that...you need to rest, not work...just...is there something I can help with?”

 

His mother stared at him before sighing.  “He won’t live a long life if he continues...I remember there was a girl in the hospital, wouldn’t eat, would try to throw everything up, we had figured out what kind of food she liked to eat, then started including it into small portions of her meals...I remember how much her skin was glowing when she left the hospital, I still saw her walking around happily after you were born, so maybe that is a good way to approach the situation.”

 

Akaashi smiled taking his mother’s hands in both of his.  “Thank you, mom, I have an idea,” his smile faltered hearing his phone go off.  “I have to go now, work is calling, but I’ll be back soon.”

 

“Keep me updated, tell Kuroo and Bokuto to bring more flowers, their arrangements are beautiful.”

 

“Flowers?”

 

“From their flower shop?”

 

Akaashi rose an eyebrow before leaning back.  “Ah, right, they have so many buildings I forget what they do most of the time,” he shook his head, getting up from the bed.  “I love you, I’ll be back.

 

“I love you too, sweetie.”

 

The model walked out of the hospital room, clicking the message from the company.  He was going to have a photoshoot with Kenma again.  The fans requested them together.  A lot.  He switched contacts to Kuroo’s.

 

**To: Kuroo Tetsurou**

You have a flower shop? 

I thought you just owned the club

 

**From: Kuroo Tetsurou**

Bokuto owns the flower shop.

It’s what he wanted to do for a long time.

Of course I was going to give my lover

What he wanted :)

 

Akaashi stared at the text rolling his eyes, changing his contact name.

 

**To: Pain-in-the-ass Kuroo**

I’m going to take care of him 

And make him better.

 

**From: Pain-in-the-ass Kuroo**

Take care of who?

 

**From: Pain-in-the-ass Kuroo**

Kenma?  Is something wrong with

Kenma?!

 

**From: Pain-in-the-ass Kuroo**

Akaashi, you have to tell me

What’s wrong, take me too

Him.

 

**To: Pain-in-the-ass Kuroo**

I can’t, please trust me

Like I’m trusting you

 

He ignored the last message he had gotten from his friend, entering his manager’s car, turning his phone on silent.

 

They didn’t go back the apartments, they went straight to the photoshoot area.  His gaze scanning the area.  His eyes locking on Kenma.  He was wearing the usual, jacket, scarf, slightly too big pants.  Everything to hide the management mistreatment.  He seemed skittish, eyes looking around his surroundings.  He offered a small smile when their eyes did lock.

 

Apples.

 

He remembered the model mentioning that he liked apples one day. If he started off with apples, then worked up slowly, maybe he could put more weight on him without a fight.  

 

“How is your mom?”  Kenma’s voice was quiet as he walked over to the other model.  “Is she feeling better?”

 

Akaashi’s mouth twitched.  No.  She wasn’t feeling better.  “Yeah, she’s looking better already,” he nodded as silence fell between them, the photographer’s shouts signaling it was time to work.

 

The shoot was fun.  The company giving them props to play with.  He found Kenma was more mischievous than before.  Forcing cat ears onto his head.  So he, in return, forced angel wings onto the faux blond’s back.  He felt like he was breaking more barriers.  He felt like something more was growing.  The more he learned, the more Kenma opened up, the more his heart hurt with wanting to make him better, make him happy.

 

It wasn’t until they ended up with their faces mere inches apart Akaashi’s heart stopped.  His breath caught in his throat.  He could see Kenma’s equally shocked eyes.  He had the urge to kiss the model in front of him, he wondered what his lips felt like.  The flash of the camera and the photographer calling it “a wrap” caused them to push away from each other.  He watched as Kenma ran off to his manager.

 

“The fans are going to eat that last picture up,” he heard one of his manager’s say, looking at the pictures on the computer screen with the photographer.  Of course they were.  Were they going to make them into a relationship?  Just like Oikawa and Sugawara?  Would he want it to be fake?  

 

The thought lingered in his mind on the drive back to the apartment.  Noticing Kenma wasn’t back yet.  The convenience store was still open, he could go find something with apples there.  ‘A fake relationship..huh,’ he thought stepping out of the apartment, going through his phone contacts before calling.

 

_ “Ohhhh, Akaashi calling first for once.” _

 

“How did you and Sugawara go through with the fake relationship?”

 

_ “By acting of course!  Though...we are both equally touchy people, so keeping our hands off each other was an issue anyways as it kept going, you make up lies as you go, where you go on dates, what you do together in your free time, thoughts on the future.” _

 

“But you’re not together still?  Even after all you two have been through.”

 

_ “It’s an open relationship, we both have mutual respect for each other that if we want to have sex with someone else it is okay...we’re also okay to turn into a poly relationship if.” _

 

“Poly?”

 

_ “Where you’re dating more than one person...where instead of one, there’s 2, we’re all dating each other.” _

 

“Ah, are you two going after someone then?”

 

_ “Mmm...you could say that…” _

 

Akaashi opened the door to the convenience store, greeting the cashier.  “I see, I just wanted to know, just in case mine and Kenma’s company decides to go that route,” he told Oikawa, listening to him ramble on about other things as he searched around.  He smiled, finding some apple slices, he grabbed two containers.  ‘Kenma might want more,’ he thought looking at a third container, but it might make him sick.  He shook his head, he can buy more later.  “I’ll call you tomorrow,” he told Oikawa hanging up on him as he walked to to the cashier.

 

When he opened the apartment door Kenma was laying on the couch, 3DS in his hand as he smashed buttons.  “I thought you were back already,” he spoke quietly, his eyes not leaving his game.

 

“I went to the store across the street,”  Akaashi told him, walking over to the couch.  “I bought you something,” he added digging through the bag, seeming to catch the model’s attention before pulling out of on the apple slice containers.  “Apples, already sliced, ready to eat...I figured...maybe you’d want a snack, and it’s healthy and light,” his voice got quieter, softer as Kenma leaned up, lazy eyes turning hard.  He almost thought he was going to leave, instead slim fingers reached out, taking the container from him.  

 

“Thanks,” he heard Kenma say as he opened the lid, popping one of the slices into his mouth, going back to his game.

 

“Kenma,” his mouth speaking before his mind could tell him to stop.  “Whatever you do...don’t let the apples come back up.” Silence fell between them.  “The company won’t be mad...apples are healthy for you, and they shouldn’t make you sick...if you want more though, I have another container in this bag, I’ll put it in the fridge for you,” he rambled forcing himself to move away from the couch, the faux blond still silent.  

 

He walked into the kitchen, opening the fridge to put the bag in it.  Akaashi nearly jumped when he shut the door and turned, Kenma suddenly in front of him, holding his hand out in front of his face.  He stared at the piece of apple.  “What?” he asked confused as the model brought it closer to his lips.  His heart thudded against his chest, why was he starting to get feelings for him.  He parted his lips, letting Kenma slide the apple slice into his mouth.  He closed his lips early, purposely enclosing his finger, nearly snorting at Kenma’s shocked face as he pulled his finger out.  Shock and a hint of a blush.  Maybe this was a way to make Kenma better as well.  

 

He’d have to tell Kuroo everything was alright.

 

Everything was alright.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lilserket.tumblr.com  
> lilserketfics.tumblr.com


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)

“You really have a “rated” photoshoot with Oikawa today?”  Kenma spoke once Akaashi entered the living room, slices of apple on the coffee table as he held a phone in his hand.

 

Akaashi soon realizing it was his phone he was holding.  “Hey, who gave you permission to go through my phone?” he asked eyes narrowing as he walked over, snatching it from the model’s hands.  

 

“And who is Pain-in-the-ass-Kuroo?  He’s been texting you…I didn’t open them though, I didn’t want to pry into your friendships,” the faux blond added as he pulled out his own phone, turning on a game.  

 

“He’s keeping watch over my mom in the hospital,” he told him, quickly going to the unopened messages.  His eyes scanning over them.  It wasn’t much, just saying his mom had another test ran, and that he brought her more flowers from Bokuto’s flower shop.  He released a breath of relief, worried it was something serious.  He sent a thank you message before looking at his manager’s message.  Kenma was right, he was going to be doing a more “risky” photoshoot with Oikawa.  That should be interesting.  

 

“Do you want me to fix you anything to eat while I’m gone?” Akaashi asked looking at the untouched slices of apples.  

 

“No.”

 

He knew that would be the answer.  He hasn’t seen Kenma gain any weight yet, but it could take a while.  Maybe he should buy an apple pie, maybe he would eat that.  “You’re going to be late,” he heard the model grumble as he tapped away at his phone.  But what if he wasn’t actually eating the apple and it was all for show.  “Don’t forget those apple slices, I paid good money for those,” he nagged moving to the door, grabbing his coat and slipping on his shoes.  “I’ll be back.”

 

-

 

Akaashi watched as buildings passed by him as they drove to the photoshoot spot.  His phone not once going off.  He was used to that, but, he couldn’t help than wish Kenma would text him, talk to him.   _ Need him _ .  He shook that thought away immediately.  This was all a job in the end, once he knows he’s been watching him, following him for money, he would surely hate him.  

 

“We’re here,” the manager said as the car came to a stop.  He gave a small smile to the fans there taking pictures.  They should be doing something more productive, but his company told him not to talk to them, not until he’s bigger.  

 

“Akaashi~”  Oikawa’s voice sang out, greeting the other model.

 

“Oikawa,” Akaashi greeted holding his smile as his hairdresser and outfit coordinator pulled off to their own area.  He could hear Oikawa chatting to someone, probably Sugawara on the phone.  He made an unpleasant face as the makeup artist messed with his eyes, putting heavy eyeliner on him as well as eye shadow and some lip gloss.  He felt like his face was heavier once they were done, before putting him a half open white shirt and tight black pants.  He could hear other’s talking about his appearance.  How the black smokey eye made his grey eyes pop.

 

“Alright, you’re ready,” he nearly ran from his company, looking around for Oikawa.  “In the photoshoot area,” he heard someone yell from the other side.  The photo-shoot area was something he wasn’t prepared for.  The backdrop was red, a white bed in front of it with rose petals spread out.  “Is this going to cause a stir with the fans?” he asked watching Oikawa walk up to him.  He couldn’t stop his eyes from running up the model’s body.  Tight black pants, red open shirt, tie hanging open from his neck, he had red eyeliner to go with the black liner, his hair messy.  He looked like sex.  

 

“Like what you see?” Oikawa hummed, amused by the younger’s reaction.  “Don’t worry, you’ll get to touch soon enough...though, I must say, I like what I see too,” he purred purposely reaching out to stroke Akaashi’s side lightly.  

 

Akaashi shivered at the touch, hoping the heavy makeup he was sporting was hiding the unstoppable blush on his cheeks.  He was acting like a highschooler instead of an adult.  He took in a deep breath as the photographer called them over.  He almost feels guilty of this photoshoot, would it bother Sugawara even if their relationship was more open.  

 

“If you’re thinking of Suga, don’t, he’s spending quality time with Kenma right now...doing who knows what.”

 

“Probably nothing.”

 

“I don’t know, Suga can be quite the sweet talker, and can get what he wants.”

 

“Are you implying he wants something from Kenma?”

 

“Don’t we all?”  Oikawa asked climbing onto the bed, feeling it dip as the younger model climbed on with him.  He didn’t give him a chance to prepare before shoving him onto his back. The older stared down a smug look on his face as the camera flashed.  “Though, we don’t want something just from Kenma,” he purred lowly grabbing Akaashi’s wrists, pulling them above his head.

 

Akaashi stared at the model on top of him, the camera flashing around them.  “I’m not that easy,” he muttered moving, kicking Oikawa’s legs from under him.  They wrestled on the bed until they were both on their knees.  Akaashi’s hand tight in the older’s brown hair pulling his head close.  “If you want me, try harder,” he spoke deeply as another flash went around them.  

 

“You don’t know how much I want to kiss that mouth of yours,”  Oikawa hissed at the tight hold in his hair.  His breath getting caught in his throat as the younger model pulled him forward until their mouths were inches apart until the camera flashed again and he was shoved back onto the bed.  “But you want Kenma too, don’t you.”

 

Of course he does.  

 

“Alright, we’re good everyone,” the photographer told everyone.

 

* * *

 

Kenma stared at the silver model sitting on the other end of the couch.  “Why are you here?” he asked mindlessly playing with his toes, the apple slices, now brown on the coffee table.  

 

“I just wanted to come hang with you since Oikawa and Akaashi are together today,”  Sugawara smiled, his legs tucked neatly under him, a cup of tea on the coffee table.  

 

“There’s another reason,” the younger’s eyes narrowed, pulling his legs closer, watching the older shift on his legs.

 

“Mmm,” the silver haired model hummed, looking towards Kenma.  “Actually...I wanted to pamper you today,” he admitted pulling his legs out from under him.  “But you’ll need to take off your hoodie...and I know you don’t like showing your body, but I want to help you relax.”

 

“Why? I was relaxed already.”

 

Suga frowned before digging in his pocket, pulling out a small pill.  “This will help you relax, and forget your troubles, I’ll take one with you.”

 

Kenma stared at the pill.  “Okay…” he muttered reaching out, taking the pill from the older male’s hand, popping it into his mouth, watching as Suga pulled out another, putting it into his own mouth.

 

It wasn’t long before his mind became foggy and the older model was pulling off his red sweatshirt, hands holding on of his hands, massaging his palm.  He couldn’t lie, it felt good.  He groaned as the hands traveled to his unhealthily skinny wrist, up his skinny arm and back down.  

 

“What’s on your mind?”  Suga asked as he let go of his hand, turning him around.  He pushed his hair away, massaging his shoulders.  Smiling as the younger dropped his head.

 

“Akaashi,”  Kenma groaned out feeling his thumbs dig into his back.  “He’s talking to someone.”

 

“Oh?  Is it romantically?”

 

“No.”

 

“No?  Then why is this on you mind.”

 

“Kuroo...is my childhood friend...he’s talking to Kuro.”

 

Suga paused for a moment.  “It could be a different Kuroo.”

 

“Kuro...I stopped speaking to him when my company started putting restrictions on me, putting me through the extreme diet, trying to put me in the dark...he was my biggest supporter...I dropped off the Earth suddenly...Akaashi might be telling him everything about me…” Kenma spoke through the fog in his mind, vaguely feeling Sugawara move him until he was laying against the model’s chest, head back on his shoulder.  “I don’t want Kuro to know I’m like this, he can’t know.”

 

Suga frowned, running a hand through Kenma’s faux blond hair.  “Do you want me to bring it up to Akaashi?” he asked, feeling the younger shake his head.  “Okay, don’t think about it anymore though, tonight is to let go,” he whispered digging into his pocket, pulling out a different pill placing it against Kenma’s lips, he felt him part his lips, letting him put the pill in his mouth, lips enclosing his finger, causing him to slowly pull it out of the younger model’s mouth.  “You’re a tease you know that.”

 

“Mmm,” Kenma hummed swallowing the pill.  “I’ve been told…”

 

“By who?”

 

“My managers.”

 

“I thought you were a virgin…” Suga spoke sheepishly, twisting faux blond hair around his finger.

 

Kenma didn’t respond, blinking slowly.  No, he wasn’t.  His managers had sold him to others before, to save the company.  But, his managers also sold themselves.  

 

They both jumped when the apartment door opened.  Oikawa laughing, bottles clinking together in a bag as Akaashi stepped in behind him.

 

“We brought alcohol!”  Oikawa yelled happily, the two cuddling on the couch not phasing him as he set it on the coffee table.

 

Akaashi on the other hand stared at Kenma and Sugawara on the couch.  A sharp feeling in his chest.  Jealousy.  Why couldn’t he cuddle with Kenma.  He could do what Sugawara was doing and feed him apples, instead of pills.  By the look in their eyes, they were high on something.  But he couldn’t lie about what he and Oikawa talked about.  He wanted them too.  He moved to take off his shoes before feeling his phone vibrating, realizing it was from a number he didn’t recognize.

 

“Hello?” he answered moving towards the door, covering his free ear.

 

_ “Is this Akaashi Keiji?” _

 

“Yes it is, who is this?” his eyebrows knitted together.

 

_ “This is Tokyo Hospital, I am calling about your mother.” _

 

Time seemed to slow.

 

_ “I’m sorry to bother you at night, but we need you to come to the hospital.” _

 

His heart sinking.

 

_ “We must fill out funeral papers and what you would like to do with her body.” _

 

Kuroo was making payments.  They should have brought their best to make her better.  His breath came out panicked and uneven.  “I have to go somewhere, I’ll be back,” he spoke quickly, opening and slamming the apartment door before the others could question.  No. No. No. This wasn’t happening.  She was his everything.  She was all he had left.  

 

“Mom,” his voice cracked chasing down a taxi, tears threatening to escape his eyes.  The drive to the hospital was torture, his legs shaking.  He nearly jumped from the taxi once they reached the hospital.

 

Akaashi rushed in, his eyes meeting Kuroo and Bokuto’s solemn ones.  “How,” his voice shook as he approached Kuroo.  “How!” he yelled grabbing Kuroo by the shirt hot tears running down his face.

 

“I’m so sorry Akaashi,” Kuroo spoke quietly letting the younger shake him.  “I tried, I tried to give more money, I tried to get them to transfer her...I’m so sorry,” he told him, letting Akaashi break down into his chest.  

 

“We’re going to pay for the funeral,”  Bokuto spoke up, placing a hand on the younger’s back.  “We’ll pay for whatever you want to happen.”

 

“I need to see her, I need to say goodbye,” Akaashi hiccuped, pulling away from the club owner, a nurse coming over to guide him.  He didn’t believe them.  He didn’t.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now it's time for everything to really go to shit. (remember this is a hitting rock bottom and getting better happy ending fic)
> 
> lilserket.tumblr.com  
> lilserketfics.tumblr.com


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: panic attack, mention of vomit, mention of character death, mention of a suicide attempt. (I might be missing something)
> 
> This fic was never suppose to be long butttt, I feel like dragging it out some more instead of going quick and being like "then this happens then this suddenly then this then done"

It was dark, walking down the hallways.  All Akaashi could see was darkness in front of him.  Only the his footsteps could be heard, his mind playing tricks on him, feeling like he was walking on cracking glass with every step.  It got harder and harder to breathe, the cracking noise getting louder as he approached the door, not noticing the nurse standing next to it with her head down.

 

He reached out to the doorknob, twisting it open.  He expected it to all be a joke.  That his mother would wake up and ask him how he was doing.  The darkness closed in on his, the glass shattering beneath him as his legs gave out before reached half way into the room.  A loud sob wrecking through his body.  His mother was everything to him.  His only family, his best friend, the one who worked so hard for them to live without worry.  

 

His body shook as he cried, he cried and he screamed.  It wasn’t fair.  He was a nice person, he did nothing wrong.  He was even helping someone else.  So why?  Why did his mother have to die?

 

He made his body move, he forced it to crawl next to the bed.  Keeping his head low he reached out, searching until he found the cold hand he was searching for.  He gripped it tightly, waiting for it to return the grip.  He choked on another sob, nothing, his mother was never going to answer him again.  She was never going to answer the phone, never going to return home with him.  He just lost.  Everything.

 

What does he do now?  What is his next move?  

 

“Mom,” Akaashi called out weakly, pressing his head into the side of the hospital bed. “What do I do now, mom?”

 

“What do I do now?”

 

.

.

.

* * *

 

The next morning went like normal for Kenma.  Except when he woke up the TV wasn’t on, there was on coffee made, no apple slices set out for him.  His eyes scanned the area, scratching his head through his bed-head hair, vaguely remembering that Akaashi had left last night after coming home with Oikawa.  

 

“Akaashi?” he called out, maybe he was just sleeping longer, maybe he got in late.  “Akaashi, you’re going to be late for your photoshoot,” he added walking over to the closed bedroom door.  He knocked on it, waiting for some sort of reply, but there was none.  He reached out on the doorknob, it was wrong to go into his room without permission, but he would get into trouble if he wasn’t there.  They both would.  Twisting the doorknob he opened the dark bedroom.  “Akaashi,” he whispered looking towards the bed.  Empty.  His heart slowly began to beat faster against his chest.  No.  No.  Maybe he stayed somewhere else.  Kenma nearly tripped on his two feet as he rushed back into his room to grab his phone.  It was rare for him to text, especially text first, he’d answer.

 

**To:  Keiji**

_ Where are you?  You’re photoshoot _

_ Is in a few hours. _

 

He stared at the screen, watching as the corner appeared with a checkmark showing it was successfully sent.  Now he had to wait.

 

An hour went by with no response as he paced around the room, absentmindedly picking at his lower lip.  His eyes going from his phone to the time on the wall.  It wasn’t good.  He had to do something.  Opening his contacts he pressed the dial number.

 

_ “Good-morning Kenma.” _

 

He almost calmed down just by hearing Sugawara’s voice.  “Akaashi’s missing, he won’t answer my text,” he blurted, pacing faster around the room.  “I don’t remember him coming back last night, and he’s not in his room, his shoes aren’t here, neither is his jacket and he has a photo shoot coming up and--”

 

_ “Kenma, Kenma! Calm down.” _

 

“I can’t calm down, if Akaashi is missing the company is going to get mad and if the company gets mad they’ll blame me!”

 

The line went silent, he could hear movement as a new voice spoke to him.

 

_ “He could have gone to that little store across from your apartment, or gone on a walk, maybe he just needs some alone time” _  Oikawa spoke through the phone.   _ “He wouldn’t just run away.” _

 

“But what if he did, what if---” Kenma stopped talking, his eyes widening as he stared at the wall.  He could hear his friends asking what was wrong on the other line.  

 

_ ‘Whose pain-in-the-ass kuroo?’ _

 

_ ‘He’s keeping watch over my mom in the hospital.’ _

 

The memories of their conversation playing through his head.  Memories of last night coming back to him.  A phone call Akaashi had received a phone call.  His mind began to race.  Why would Akaashi suddenly become a model at his agency and stick with it even seeing how he was being treated.  His mom being in the hospital, this agency barely pays anything to keep up with the bills.  Kuroo.  Kuroo is his Kuro.  Akaashi’s working under Kuro, Kuro will know about his condition.  He’ll think he’s disgusting, think he’s gross.  He’ll never want to see him again.  

 

The world began to spin as his breathing came short and quick, his body shaking enough to drop his phone, not once hearing Oikawa and Sugawara’s concerned shouts.  He was going to be sick.  He tried to step towards the bathroom, his legs buckling under him as he hit floor, stomach acid coming up, having not eaten anything since yesterday morning.  It burned, tears pricking his eyes as he threw up more, the tears falling over past his eyes.  He trusted Akaashi.  He  _ liked  _ Akaashi.  He should have known, no one actually likes him.  They like the thought of keeping him around for friendship sake.  No one likes him.  

 

No one likes him…

 

No one likes him…

 

No one likes him…

 

The world stopped around him as the alarm went off on the clock.  It was time to meet their managers.  No. It was time to go.  Kenma moved, pushing himself up from the ground, ignoring the small mess on the ground as his legs moved to the bathroom.  He felt numb as he opened the cabinets, pulling out multiple painkiller pills and sleeping pills, pushing them into his red hoodie.  Moving he grabbed one of his thicker coats and boots.  Remembering his phone on the ground he saw that his call to Sugawara had ended.  He had his DS in his pocket, taking one last look on the phone on the ground, his hand on the doorknob, twisting it and ran.

 

* * *

 

“We have to go to him,” Sugawara panicked jumping up from the couch nearly knocking Oikawa out in the processes.  “He’s panicking about something and who knows what he might do in that state.”

 

“We can’t,”  Oikawa frowned, slowly rising from the couch, his eyes on the clock.  “We have to go to the interview,” he flinched seeing the heated look he was receiving from his “boyfriend”. 

 

“But he isn’t fine!  Tooru what if something bad happens!  What if he leaves the country and never comes back like Dachi!” the model yelled gripping his phone tightly.

 

Something in the brunette finally snapped as his face hardened.  “Daichi’s dead Koushi! He’s not on some trip!  His phone isn’t shut off because he’s in another country!  His phone is shut off because he’s dead!”  Oikawa yelled, his hands curling into tight fists.  He stared at the hurt look in Suga’s eyes.  Realizing what he had just said, his hands slowly uncurled.  “Suga, I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean to say those things,” he whispered his eyes turning down to the floor.  

 

“What…” Suga whispered his voice shaking.  “You’re lying, you’re lying!” he yelled shoving the other model.  “He didn’t die that night!”

 

“Suga…”  The other model started not surprised by the shove.

 

“I know he’s dead, I know, but texting and thinking he’s on a trip helps me, it helps me,” his breath shaking as he wrapped his arms around himself.  “It helps me.”

 

‘Liar,’  Oikawa thought his eyes moving to the table, where the drugs laid next to the alcohol bottles.  “But if you let go and move on, you can get better,” he took a step forward.  “You would see that there are others that love you, are in love with you and want to help you get better, but we all have our problems who do, but doesn’t that mean we can get better together?” his voice soft, coming closer to his “boyfriend” nearly sighing in relief when he didn’t get pushed away.

 

“What are you trying.”

 

“I don’t want to be fake boyfriends Koushi, I don’t want to pretend anymore in front of the cameras, I don’t want to leave your side and I don’t Keiji or Kenma to leave our side either, I want us together, helping each other, together, and I want to do everything I can to help Kenma and find Akaashi but right now we can’t, and that’s bullshit, but when we’re done with the interviews tonight, lets go all out, fuck shit up,” he brought a hand up to Suga’s frozen face, leaning in to press a soft kiss to the corner of his lips.  

 

* * *

 

Oikawa wasn’t surprised when he was rejected.  But Suga hadn’t said know.  “I have to think about, I have to process it, this is too much, I can’t just let go of Daichi,” he had said before they left to the recording studio.  He knew this.  It took him years to get over.  He frowned, looking out the window, he hadn’t spoken to his ex since their nasty break up several years back.  

 

“We’re here,” his manager said as they pulled into the parking lot.  He got out, Sugawara’s car parking behind them.  He looked at the other model offering a small smile, holding out his hand.  It was still a fake relationship.  He grabbed his hand tightly, knowing the other had been crying on the way there.  It was his fault.  

 

He wanted to quit this toxic life.  He wanted all of them to quit, but the contracts held them their trapped.  He wanted people to stop messing with his hair, to stop forcing a shit ton of makeup on him, to choose his outfits, to see his picture everywhere.  To have fans, he was tired of it.

 

The interview questions started off normal.  Until a picture came up.  He felt a strong blush appear on his face, he hadn’t seen his and Akaashi’s risky photoshoot until now.  He looked towards Sugawara seeing the slight blush on his face.  

 

“What does Sugawara have to say to this photoshoot?  They look like they have a lot of chemistry, do you think Akaashi is a threat to your relationship?” the interviewer asked.  It was to stir controversy.  To make him be a bad guy.

 

“Threaten?”  Sugawara spoke gently as he looked at Oikawa and then to the picture.  “I think I want to be there in that photo with them, add Kozume Kenma and it would be perfect,” he added smiling sweetly towards the interviewer who was loss for words.  

 

Oikawa was equally lost for words, shocked that he had said that.  Now THAT was going to cause a controversy.  “I agree, I want the photographer to invite Suga and Kenma there next time, wouldn’t it be equally as hot with two more on that bed?” He watched the interviewer closely seeing them trying to find something to add to it, but they were too flustered.  He should apologize for spoiling the jealousy trope, but he wasn’t and he was tired of this.  

 

The interview went on with recording, stopping every once in a while to fix makeup and clothes, to tape a small fun game to play.  

 

It took too long.

 

By the time they were done it was night time.  Him and Sugawara exhausted as they were driven back to their shared apartment.  

 

“Have you heard from Kenma or Akaashi?”  Sugawara asked as they entered their apartment.

 

Oikawa frowned looking towards his phone.  “No, not since Kenma this morning, we should call him,” he was worried for the younger models, he opened his contacts on his phone, clicking call on Kenma’s name.  He put the phone to his ear, letting it ring as Sugawara turn on the TV.

 

“Tooru,” he heard Suga gasp his name as he turned to look at the TV, his hand slowly lowering the phone as Kenma’s voicemail started.

 

**_Breaking news:  Models Akaashi Keiji and Kozume Kenma missing.  Last seen yesterday at their photoshoot.  Their whereabouts are unknown and are believed to be in danger.  If you know anything please contact the police.  Kozume Kenma’s phone was left at the apartment, the cabinet in the bathroom was open.  We believe it may be a suicide attempt.  If you have any information please contact the police._ **

 

“We have to go.”

 

We have to go!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, I wonder who Oikawa's ex is, oh I wonderrr, I wonderrrr why it's mentioned.
> 
> lilserket.tumblr.com  
> lilserketfics.tumblr.com


	8. Sex, Drugs and Alcohol

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took too long to update this fic and even still it's been this long it still got kudos, thank you for waiting.

They covered themselves with hats, coats and scarfs as they walked down the street, hand in hand, eyes scanning the area.  They had to be somewhere.

 

“What if Akaashi just got a hotel?” Oikawa tried to stay hopeful as he squeezed Sugawara’s hand tighter.  “Maybe he just wanted to be by himself tonight,” he added walking past shops, the signs turning to closed as the owner’s locked the doors.  

 

“Why wouldn’t he tell anyone,” Sugawara’s eyes were wide as they looked around as they passed a small group smoking on the corner as they turned.  He swallowed, feeling the younger’s hand tighten around his. He didn’t like to be out at night. They approached the alleyway. The alleyway from that night.  He stopped in his tracks, staring ahead.

 

The younger frowned when there was a tug on his arm.  Turning, he looked back at the older. “What’s wrong?” he asked, hand pulling from his.  He watched the silver haired model turn on his heels, down the dark alleyway. “Suga,” he called out, following behind the model.  

 

Suga swayed as he walked deeper, the shadows swallowing him.  He felt himself leave his own body, him and Daichi appearing before him.  They were laughing, pressed close to each other. He watched himself laugh as his boyfriend kissed his cheek.  It was snowing. He watched himself flick the snow from Daichi’s hair. They went this way because it was a shortcut.  He turned, hearing footsteps. A man with his face covered was shouting at them. Shouting that Daichi didn’t deserve him.  He felt his heart clench as the shot rang out. Turning back, he watched as his boyfriend fell to the ground, blood pooling as he fell to his knees, calling the police as he held Daichi close, screaming as tears fell down his face.  

 

“It was here wasn’t it,”  Oikawa whispered snapping the older from his thoughts.  A frown on his face. “This was where he was shot right?”

 

The older held his breath, nodding.  “Yeah,” he spoke breathlessly forgetting the other model was with him.  He felt tears pricking the side of his eyes as he turned towards the younger.  “I can’t lose more people that mean something to me, I can’t bury them too,” he felt the tears fall, his body shaking.  What if they were already too late.

 

“We aren’t going to bury them, they’re just lost, we’ll find them and all come home together okay?”  Oikawa told him reaching out to his hands, sighing in relief when he didn’t pull away. “We have to keep going, okay?” he whispered, watching the older nod, looking towards the ground.  If he knew he wasn’t going to step over a boundary he would kiss him. Kiss him until he smiled again. Instead he held tight onto his hand, leading them out of the alleyway. If someone was emotionally unstable, suicidal, where would they go.  Where would they go. Where would they….

 

He stopped in his tracks.  “The bridge, we need to look at the bridge,”  he breathed out, yelping when Sugawara moved first, pulling him down the road, running.  They pushed through small crowds, their scarves falling from their faces as they panted while the ran.  Please let Kenma be there, or Akaashi. Please don’t let them be too late. 

 

They ran towards the bridge, slowly going to a walk until finally stopping.  The bridge was quiet, no one around. He watched as Suga leaned over, making sure no one was in the shallow waters below.  

 

“I don’t know if I should be happy that there isn’t a body down there, or more worried,” Sugawara whispered pulling himself back.  There had to have been another area. He looked around, thinking hard. “A playground, Kenma would go to a playground,” he decided looking at what road they were on.  There was a playground halfway between their dorm and Kenma and Akaashi’s dorm. 

 

“He’s there,” Oikawa spoke, this time grabbing hold of the older model, pulling him as they ran down the sidewalks.  You weren’t supposed to be at the parks at night, but Kenma was small, he could hide in one of the tubes easily. 

 

They ran down the roads, the sound of thunder rumbling in the distance made them push faster until their sides were hurting forcing them to slow down to a walk.  The park coming into their view. He had to be there, unless he was in a hospital, but the news had just broken out. Oikawa walked onto the grass, looking at the children playground.  “Kenma!” he called out, lightening flashing just miles away. “Kenma!”

 

Sugawara looked towards the sky, the wind picking up, leaves falling off the trees.  “Kenma!” he called out, walking towards the play tubes. He listened closely, bending to look into one of the tubes. 

 

“Check the slide,” he heard the other model yell as he checked the other playground equipment.  The silver haired model moved to the stairs, climbing up as thunder rumbled, lighting flashing. He frowned hearing a small gasp as he approached the tube connecting to the slide.  His eyes meeting, panicked gold ones, the model moving to slide down. Suga moved to grab him, knocking something from his pocket. “Oikawa! Kenma’s going to run!” he screamed, nearly jumping off the stairs as he took off after the younger model, the other sprinting after him.

 

He slowed, watching as Kenma stumbled around on his feet, the longer he ran, Oikawa quickly catching him.  He watched as the burnette knocked the younger on to the ground, as he was bent over on top of him. 

 

“Why did you run away?”

 

“Where is your phone!”

 

“Why didn’t you tell us if something was wrong!”

 

Sugawara listened as Oikawa screamed at the younger as he approached.  He could hear the younger’s sobs, arms covering his face. “Oikawa, stop,” he whispered, watching as his friend sat up, straddling Kenma’s hips as it started to sprinkle.  He moved back, looking towards the slide, remembering, hearing something fall from the younger’s hoodie. 

 

The rain slowly picked up, drowning out Oikawa’s yelling and Kenma’s cries.  He walked to the edge of the slide, using his phone as flashlight, he looked around the ground.  His breath hitched as lighting struck over them. His eyes on the pill bottles. Reaching down he picked one up.  It was still closed, pills still inside, the other though. He stared at the empty bottle. How many pills were in the bottle already?  How many did he take? He saw a few pills on the ground. 

 

Slowly, Sugawara stood back up, his hands shook as he turned on his phone.  He needed his rock. He needed.

 

**To: Daichi~**

My friend, you remember Kozume Kenma? He tried to leave.

 

**From: Daichi**

_ The number you have texted is no longer in service. _

**To: Daichi~**

I don’t want him to go on a long trip like you.

 

**From: Daichi**

_ The number you texted is no longer in service.  _

 

**To: Daichi~**

It’s cold out.

 

**From: Daichi**

_ The number you texted is no longer in service. _

 

Sugawara stared at his phone as the rain fell.  Nearly jumping out of his skin when he felt a hand on his shoulder.  Turning he was met with Oikawa, his phone coming to his chest as he looked towards Kenma, pressed close to the other model’s chest, hood over his head.

 

“We should take him back to our apartment,”  Oikawa spoke over the storm, noticing the older hiding his phone, knowing who he was texting.  A frown on his face as he held the younger closer to him.

 

“But the cops will come, or investigators, we’ll get busted.”

 

“Then…” the model’s voice trailed off, feeling the younger look up at him.  He looked down looking, at painfully red puffy eyes before looking back towards Sugawara.  “Then we’ll go out with a bang,” he added, thunder booming over them, the ground shaking a bit.  “If this is how we end our careers, then so be it,  _ what does it matter anyways _ .” 

 

Sugawara stared at him.  All the pain it had caused all of them.  Anything would be better than continuing on.  He held the pill bottles in his hands, putting him in his pocket.  “You’re right, let’s make tonight _ like it’s our last _ .”

 

-

 

The walk back to their apartment was quiet and wet. Rain soaking through their clothes as they busted through the door.  

 

“We should change,”  Sugawara told them, heading towards their shared bedroom.  “I’ll get you something to wear Kenma,” he added entering the bedroom.

 

Oikawa turned his attention to the younger model.  “You’re going to have to tell us why you ran away, do you know how scared we were?  Akaashi is still missing too.”

 

Kenma stilled hearing Akaashi’s name.  “I don’t want to see him…” he whispered, bowing his head, wet hair falling in front of his face.  

 

“Why not? Does it go with you running away?”  the older asked, falling silent as the younger nodded his head.  “When we’re all changed, you’re telling us everything.”

 

“Okay…”

 

* * *

 

They were cuddled onto the couch. Alcohol and drugs spread out over the coffee table as Sugawara grabbed one of the pills.  “Kenma, have you ever had LSD?” he hummed, holding the pill between his fingers, alcohol already in their system, he watched the younger mumble something, already tipsy as he leaned against Oikawa’s chest.  “Open, then tell us why you ran okay?” he smiled reaching out, the younger opening his mouth, allowing him to pop the pill into his mouth.

 

Kenma didn’t want to tell them as he swallowed the pill, the alcohol already making him feel like he was floating, plus the pills he had taken at the park.  His muscles were relax and his mind was free. They said they were going out with a bang anyways. He snorted, leaning his head back against Oikawa’s chest, feeling the older rub his neck, under his jaw.  “Akaashi’s a traitor,” he spoke, looking up at the ceiling. A short laugh coming from him. “He’s been contacting my childhood friend this whole time, I saw his phone, he’s telling him everything, he must think I’m disgusting, how I just dropped off, how I shrugged it being too busy,” his short laugh turned into giggles, as the older held him tighter.  “Instead I was being abused, mentally and physically, I couldn’t eat, my body bruises easily, I’m sick, and now Kuro knows,” he laughed, tears escaping from his eyes. “I wanted to end it at the park, I wanted it to all go away, but you guys found me,” he quieted down.

 

His eyes moved, looking towards Sugawara.  “I want to go in the comfort of my friends,” he told them, his mouth moving faster than his mind.  “I want to feel every inch of you...both,” his body feeling good from the drugs and alcohol. It was bad, he knew it.  He felt Suga’s body crawl up his, Oikawa moving until he was sandwich between them. Sugawara’s mouth was hot on his, smoke escaping between their mouths.  Weed. 

 

Kenma closed his eyes, his mind drifting, feeling hands move to his hips, slowly lifting the new hoodie he was wearing, thumbs feeling his boney hips.  He couldn’t find it in him to care as the hand traveled under, further, feeling each of his ribs. He didn’t care. They were just as sick as him.

 

A knock on the door made them pause.  Kenma frowned, eyes droopy and bloodshot as Sugawara got up making his way to the door.

 

* * *

 

Akaashi vaguely remembered walking into the bar.  It wasn’t a bar he’d like to be at. It was dirty, and the people there stinked, but he needed relief.  He needed to clear his mind. So he ordered shots. 

 

_ “You’ll have to come back to discuss the funeral matters.” _

 

_ “I’m sorry there was nothing we could do.” _

 

The words spinning around in his head.  Fuck. This was all their fault. They didn’t try hard enough to save his mother.  They didn’t try hard enough. Kuroo didn’t try hard enough. This wasn’t his fault.  He tried the best he could. He kept trying. He took another shot, then another. Not noticing the tears streaming down his face as a stranger bought his next couple shots. 

 

How many was that now?  He didn’t know anymore. His mind was fuzzy and his sight spun a little when he looked around.  He didn’t even realize he was telling someone his light story until the person asked if he needed a way home.  

 

No.  He didn’t want to go home.  There was no one there. He felt the person grab him, but he shoved him away, getting down from the stole.  He wobbled on his feet as he forced himself outside. He was alone. Why, he was always a nice person. He didn’t deserve this.  This was Kenma’s fault. He kicked an empty beer bottle, watching it break against the wall. Fuck them, fuck this world. He sobbed as it started to rain.  Vaguely thinking he heard Oikawa’s voice yelling for Kenma. No, that couldn’t be. The alcohol was messing with him. He stumbled down the road. Lightning flashing overhead, his feet dragging him down the roads.  He bumped past people. Some pushing him, he fell once, laughing as he got up, ignoring the stares. His leading him to a building. 

 

He knew this building.

 

Akaashi cursed, but his feet drug himself up the staircase.  He walked and walked until he was in front of the familiar apartment number.  He hated himself as he knocked, waiting for the door to open. 

 

He felt anxiety in his throat, his feet glued to the door.  His eyes shifted towards the doorknob as it twisted, looking back up.  He stared at Sugawara, nearly breaking when the older pulled him into his arms.

 

“We were so worried,” Sugawara breathed out, pulling the younger inside.

 

Akaashi stared at the couch, his eyebrows knitted together seeing Kenma there cuddled against Oikawa, disrupting their apparent kiss.  His face grew hot, noticing the older’s change as he got up from the couch, nearly tripping over himself as he approached.

 

“You, you’re talking to Kuroo Tetsurou!”  Kenma yelled walking unsteadily over to the younger.  “Were you a spy the whole time! Did you tell him how sick I was!  Did you tell him how disgusting I look! You’re a fucking liar. As if you ever cared about someone like me,” he snarled angry tears leaving his bloodshot eyes.

 

“I did it because he offered to take care of my sick mother!  He was paying her medical bills and the house payments! I did it for her not you or him!”  Akaashi yelled back stepping closer, his hands grabbing the older’s hoodie. “And guess where that got my?!  No where, I’m alone now, I couldn’t even keep my own mother alive, and now I’m alone, I have no one left in this shitty world!” his grip tightened in the hoodie, before pushing away.  “I didn’t send Kuroo anything, he doesn’t even know where you are still, I was here to help build evidence and take it to court that you were being abused so that we could get you out of here, but look at you!  You’re a alcoholic druggie too!” 

 

“And what does that make you!” Kenma screamed, shooving the younger in return.  “You reek of alcohol! You were the most loved one in the company! You were bring the company back into the spotlight, you were never going to suffer like I was!  Even if you go back there they’ll cover your ass, but me?! They’ll lock me up again! They’ll hit me again, they’ll touch me again! You’re nothing but a traitor, you don’t care about me, or any of us!”

 

“I care about you!  Kenma, I fucking love you! And the others, I would be a wreck without you!”  

 

“Then prove it!”

 

Sugawara stared at the two arguing, his hand coming over his mouth when Akaashi nearly smashed Kenma into the wall, kissing him hard.  He turned his attention to Oikawa sitting on the couch. The younger giving him a “let them work it out look”, nodding he moved back to the couch, sitting on the other model’s lap.  “If you guys still want to go out with a bang...we still have plenty of alcohol and drugs,” he hummed watching as the two separated, still staring at each other, breath heavy. He noticed Kenma’s knee giving in, having to use the wall.  He was in a worse shape than any of them. Maybe he should cut him off soon.

 

Oikawa smirked as he held out a beer bottle towards Akaashi, letting it go once he grabbed it.  “What do you guys feel about sex?” he asked finishing his third beer, taking the pill from Sugawara’s hand, he placed it on his tongue before swallowing it. “It’s just us four...we’re already this messed up…”

 

Kenma shifted as he sat on the ground, his mind spinning.  “But…” he spoke quietly, his hands on the hoodie he was wearing.  His body swayed feeling the effects of the drugs. He could feel someone’s hands on him, laying him back against a chest.  When was someone behind him, wasn’t he leaning against the couch? No, he was in the middle of the room. He doesn’t remember.  The hands trailed under his sweatshirt again as he reached his hands back touch fluffy hair. Oikawa was touching him, he sucked in his stomach when his warm hand touch him there.  His toes curled when the hand trailed up.

 

Akaashi watched the two on the ground.  He watched as Oikawa lifted Kenma’s sweatshirt, even with him eating apples and drinking tea, he was still too thin, like you could easily break him in half.  He shook his head as a hand touched his shoulder, turning to look towards Sugawara.

 

“Have you ever tried a drug before?” the older model asked holding a small round pill in his hand.  

 

“No,” the younger responded, honestly he never wanted to touch them.

 

“Do you want to try it?”

 

Akaashi frowned as he stared at the pill, taking a breath of air.  “You guys mentioned going out with a bang, what do you mean by that?” he asked as the other laughed.

 

“You guys were placed as missing people, and considered in danger, do you really think the cops wouldn’t come here?  We’re going to let them bust us, we’re going to make this giant news, we’re going to get out of this business,” Sugawara was grinning wide, as he brought the pill to his own lips.  “Might as well live for the moment before we get our last major spotlight.”

 

What would it hurt?  It’s not like his mother would be angry.  “Okay, I’ll try it,” he decided, watching the silvered hair model place it on his tongue.  Oh. He thought, eyes widening as Sugawara took his head into his hands pulling them until their lips met, he opened his mouth, the older moving the pill into it before pulling back just enough to let him swallow before diving into another kiss. 

 

The kiss was hard, he could feel his mind slowly turn fuzzy, his body was hot.  Akaashi groaned as Sugawara straddled his hips, feeling him grind down onto his hardening crotch.  He moved his hands to the older’s hips, his thumbs digging into the shirt as they seperated from the kiss.  His eyes moving to Oikawa and Kenma on the floor. He stared at Oikawa’s well fit body, he wondered how often he had to work out.  He bit his lower lip, watching the older push Kenma onto his back, he watched as he hooked his fingers onto the younger’s waistband, slowly pulling his pants off.

 

“We should join them on the ground,”  Sugawara whispered into Akaashi’s ear before getting up.

 

“If you want to join then take off your clothes,”  Oikawa purred, looking towards the two. He watched as Sugawara immediately took off his shirt, while Akaashi looked a bit hesitant before pulling off his damp shirt.  “Ah, Kenma look at our friends, look how hot they are and they’re all ours,” he hummed looking down at the younger, watching him look over as he pulled his pants all the way off.

 

Kenma stared at the blurs, he reached out his hand, feeling one of them take it as the figures cleared up. He smiled looking at Akaashi, lacing their fingers together as the younger leaned over kissing, the drugs affecting all of them as they touched each other.  Rubbing against each other. Laughter between kisses as their clothes were discarded, skin on skin touching.

 

Kenma could feel all hands on him, his hands going into short hair, it was different than Akaashi’s.  Sugawara, he was making out with Sugawara as a hand suddenly grabbed his cock, causing him to gasp in surprise, the hand slowly stroking him as the older model distracted him with the kiss.

 

Akaashi hummed as the older squirmed under his hand, slowly stroking his cock.  He looked up, watching as Oikawa put lube on his fingers, kneeling behind Sugawara.  He didn’t remember the older model ever leaving the room, then again his mind wasn’t clear and his vision felt like looking through a tunnel.  His hand sped up on Kenma’s cock, listening to Sugawara’s moans, watching as Oikawa thrusted his fingers inside of him. He stopped, moving his hand from Kenma’s cock hearing the model whine at the loss of friction.  

 

He moved, spreading the model’s legs further apart as he searched through his tunnel vision for the lube bottle, jumping when Oikawa held it in front of his face.

 

“Here,”  Oikawa chuckled, grinning as he pulled his finger’s from Sugawara’s hole, lining up his cock.  He watched as the younger model fumbled with the bottle before finally getting open, messily putting it on his fingers.  He thrusted inside the older model watching as Akaashi pushed a finger in, thrusting it in and out with no rhythm. His own thrust were slow, keeping his eyes on the younger as he inserted to finger’s the drugs making him careless as he inserted a third, Kenma groaning at the discomfort, but that seemed to slow him down.  The night was full of sex, drugs and alcohol, he couldn’t ask for anything less. 

 

His thrusts slowly picked up speed,  Akaashi lining his cock up with Kenma’s hole.  Oikawa groaned watching the younger’s cock slide into Kenma’s hole.  That was hot. 

 

“Go faster, Oikawa,”  Sugawara growled, pulling away from the kiss with Kenma, his hands steading himself over the younger, he could hear the tired moans coming from below him as the younger model grabbed his hips harder, thrusting faster, harder.  He could feel him moving his angle until his back arched, cock hitting his prostate directly.

 

Kenma bit on his finger, watching the older on top of him, groaning as Akaashi slid into him.  Stopping for a second before thrusting slow. He wanted more, he wanted to feel what Suga was feeling.  “Harder,” he whined out, moving his hips as the younger readjusted his hold on him. He was already denied pleasure once, he needed it now.  He watched the older’s face turn into bliss, not noticing that Akaashi had moved them, bending his lower half up more as the younger gave a sudden harsh thrust, hitting directly on his prostate.  And Kenma yelled, his eyes widening as he back arched. He was staring at Sugawara in the eyes as his prostate was hit against. The older was smiling down at him until Oikawa bent him over, until his chest was on the floor, stomach pressed across his own.

 

“More,” Kenma whined out, biting onto his finger, a ting of iron filling his mouth as he bit down harder.

 

Akaashi groaned as the older’s hole tightened around him with each thrust, sweat rolling down their bodies.  He looked up watching as Oikawa mandled Sugawara, positioning him over Kenma’s head, his hand wrapping around to stroke the older model’s cock, in time with his thrusts, turning erratic.  His own thrusts turning hard, pounding into the Kenma’s hole, panting as he hit his prostate. He copped the other, wrapping his hand around the older’s cock, stroking it in time. His hips stuttering listening to Sugawara moan loudly in pleasure, his cum landing on Kenma’s face.  It was dirty, but it tipped him over the edge, his hips pressing deep into the older, his cum releasing inside him as he stroked Kenma, sending him over the edge as well.

 

Oikawa watched as Sugawara fell over, just above Kenma’s head.  Pleased with himself seeing the mess on the younger’s tired face.  He moved, grabbing one of the shirts on the ground to wipe him clean.  “I think they’re already asleep,” he chuckled moving closer to Akaashi.  “They did take a lot of pills and alcohol,” he added, staring at the younger.

 

“What if the police don’t come here?” Akaashi asked, looking down at Kenma’s too skinny naked body, he could already see the bruises forming on the male’s hips.  He felt a hand on his cheek, moving his head to face the older’s, their lips meeting before pulling apart.

 

“Then give them a reason,” the older smiled before laying down beside Kenma, his head on Sugawara’s tigh.

 

The younger watched them fall asleep, slowly he rose up, wobbling on his feet as he walked to Oikawa and Sugawara’s shared room.  He pulled off the blankets from the bed, Oikawa’s words in his head as he walked out of the room, draping the blankets over their waists, alcohol bottles and pills surrounding them.  He knows how to make them come.

 

Walking to his damp clothes he rummaged through, finding his phone, turning it back on for the first time since leaving the hospital.  Kuroo did want to know about his childhood friend after all.

 

He turned on his camera, ignoring the text messages he had received.  He stared at his friends naked bodies on the ground, he made sure to focus on Kenma, his hair messily covering his face, his bones sticking out, the alcohol, the drugs.  He took the picture, linking it to Kuroo’s message.

 

**To: Kuroo Tetsurou**

_ [File attachment] _

_ Here is your childhood friend. _

 

**To: Kuroo Tetsurou**

_ You want to help, tell them we’re at this apartment _

 

Seeing your childhood friend in such a mess would hurt equally as bad.  He turned his phone off once he sent the address, laying down on the other side of Kenma. His eyes closing, breath slowing as everything went to black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lilserketfics.tumblr.com  
> lilserket.tumblr.com


	9. Oxygen

It was dark, Akaashi tried to open his eyes but it was as if they were glued shut.  He panicked, trying to raise his hands to them, only for them to not budge. He could hear movement, a knock, another knock.  He panicked more remembering what he had done under the influence. His eyes snapping open as the door was kicked down, his sight was spinning as he tried to get up, to see who broke down the door, but there were hands on him suddenly, pushing him to the ground.  

 

“It burns,” his voice croaked out, the hands on him felt like fire on his skin.  He could hear the paramedics talking, his brain wouldn’t register what was being said.  He rolled his head to the side, the spinning in his eyes slowly slowing down. There were people touching his friends.  He watched as his vision cleared up as they put Oikawa on a stretcher, they put Sugawara on one next. He followed them, his eyes landing on Kenma.  He watched as the paramedics touched the male as he, himself was lifted up, placed on a stretcher of his own, straps securing him. He watched as the paramedic started to pump the older’s chest.  His brain not registering what the paramedic was doing as he was taken out of the apartment.

 

He felt the cool air nip his bare skin not covered by a blanket, his eyes growing heavy again.  Was it him? No, he could feel an IV in his arm. He wanted to ask what was going to happen to them, but his words failed as his eyes grew heavier, a woman coming into his vision as his eyes closed.  At first, he thought he was seeing his mom again. Maybe he would see his mother again.

 

* * *

 

It seemed like a dream.  That everything that happened in one night didn’t actually happen.  The beeping noises made him know that he was in the hospital. Akaashi opened his eyes, the world much clearer as the stared at the ceiling, the lights off, sun peaking through the curtains.  He had an IV in his arm, the computer tracking his heart beats. This is how his mother was living. He wondered if she ever got to go outside. He wondered if she got lonely. 

 

He looked over, noticing a curtain what was open, revealing another bed.  Did he have a roommate? There wasn’t anything there. His eyes moved towards the door as the doorknob turned, the door opening slowly.

 

“Oh, you’re awake,” the nurse spoke in shock, not expecting the male to be up.

 

“I am,” his voice was harsh as the woman moved to the IV bag.  “What happened?” he asked, no he knew what happened, he wanted to know what was going to happen to him.  Where were his friends?

 

“We pumped your stomach, as well of running test,” she told him, replacing the IV bag with a new one.  “This is just fluids, the alcohol and drugs dehydrated you, I will be telling the doctor that you are awake, he’ll be in to ask questions,” she added, walking back to the door, pausing to see if the male was going to say anything before leaving.

 

Akaashi watched the nurse leave, his eyes looking back up at the ceiling.  He shouldn’t have returned to Oikawa’s apartment, but wouldn’t he still be in this situation?  He drank a lot even before there. Who knew that the day after his mother died, that he’d be in the same hospital as her.  His mind drifted, he still had to make funeral plans. He had to talk to the funeral home, he had to find the money to pay to have her laid to rest still.  His mind shifted to his friends, to Kenma. How were they? Were they okay? Were they awake? 

 

His eyes snapped back to the door when it opened.  The doctor was younger looking than what he had expected to pop into the room.  

 

“How are you feeling today?” The man spoke, holding a clipboard.

 

“Like I’ve been hit by a truck,” the model replied, he wasn’t lying, his head was still spinning with thoughts.

 

“I’m Doctor Hanamaki, I have done some tests already, they are still being processed, but I would like to ask questions and do a check up now,” Hanamaki spoke, bringing a rolling chair over to the bed, sitting down.

 

“Okay,” the younger stared at the doctor, watching his pen tap the paper.

 

“Akaashi Keiji, worked for a modeling agency just recently, correct?” 

 

“Yes.”

 

“We couldn’t find any injuries to your body, when the investigators went to your house, as well as your agency’s apartment there was no alcohol, or drugs, was there a motive behind your intake of drugs and alcohol?”

 

Akaashi looked away.  They went to his house too?  Kuroo must have told them his address.  “My mother just recently passed away...I was in an uncontrollable emotional state, I didn’t even want to go to that apartment, my legs just walked me there, I didn’t know what I wanted to do, I just wanted to ease the pain...but look where it landed me,” he scoffed, looking towards the window, the sun peeking through the curtain still.

 

The doctor didn’t react as he wrote down his words onto the paper.  “You were here recently, Akaashi, that was also the last name of the woman that had passed, that was your mother correct?” 

 

The model’s face softened, hearing the words from someone else, it made his heart ache.  “Yes, that was my mother,” he told him quietly, keeping his attention to the window. 

 

“Would you like me to open the curtain?” he was asked, a small nod is all he gave.  He watched as the doctor came into view, opening the curtains for him, the sun making the room brighter.  “How long do I have to stay here?” he asked, watching as a bird flew on to the window ledge before flying off.

 

“Your test should come back soon, if there is nothing wrong, and without a past of alcohol or drug abuse, we have no reason to fear you would do something again, correct?” Hanamaki stared at the upcoming model.  “You will be released tonight.”

 

“Will I be returned to the model agency?” 

 

“The modeling agency has been temporarily shut down, they are being taken to court, your friend Kuroo Tetsurou will be here to pick you up and bring you to live with him,” the doctor broke the news as he wrote more things down on the paper.

 

Akaashi wondered if he was just drawing instead of writing.  “And my mother? I have to speak about the funeral.”

 

“Kuroo Tetsurou has already taken care of that, all you have to do is tell us if you wish to bury her or cremate her.”

 

The model’s soft face hardened again.  Of course that guy was going to do something like, like a form of apology.  He took in a breath in, opening his mouth to answer, but a sudden choked sob came out instead, his hand coming up to cover his mouth.  Why was he being like this? Stray tears fell down his face, his free hand moving from his face to his eyes. “Cremate her,” he finally calmed down enough to answer.  He heard the Doctor softly answer, as the sound of the pen was back on the paper. 

 

Akaashi listened as the doctor stood up, feet stepping further away.  “Wait,” he called out, moving his eyes just catching the doctor before he left the room.  “There were three others, Kenma, Oikawa and Sugawara...are they okay?” he asked, swallowing thickly as the doctor looked down, before looking back up with a long breath.

 

“I’m not supposed to speak of other patients what aren’t mine, but word travels, and two will be going to rehab.”

 

“And the other?” He asked watching as Hanamaki opened his mouth before there was beeping outside the door.

 

“I apologize I must go,” the doctor gave a small bow before leaving the room, leaving the model there.

 

Akaashi watched as the door was shut, looking back to the window. He tried to think about before he came here.  He remembered the events before going to sleep, but he could vaguely remember waking up. The hands on him. He thought harder before letting out a sigh.  He hoped everyone was okay. He hoped they would were going to stick together in whatever rehab center they go to. Do they even want to still be together after all this?  He wanted to keep in contact with them. He hoped they would feel the same. 

 

* * *

 

_ “I love you, Sawamura,” Sugawara smiled wide as he looked at his hands laced together as they walked.  Together, they were together again. “I missed you, but I knew you would be waiting for me here,” he added, his heart fluttering.  He looked up at the blue sky, birds flying over head. “Do you think we’ll be here together forever?” he asked the other being silent as there was a pull from the other. _

 

_ He looked back, no one was there.  His hand was gripping nothing.  _

 

_ “It’s not your time, they’re waiting,” the wind whispered, sounding like his late boyfriend. _

 

_ “But I want to be here with you,” Suga panicked, looking around the colorful world turning black.  “Sawamura!” he yelled as light came from below him. _

 

_ “Wake up.” _

 

Sugawara groaned, his eyes squeezing together before opening them.  He was in a white room, the sound of a heart monitor beeped beside him.  ‘So it was just a dream after all,’ he thought looking at the monitor, watching the rhythm on the screen.  

 

He didn’t remember much of the night before, not after falling asleep.  He didn’t remember coming to the hospital. Had they been found? What about their companies?  Surely they won’t be taken back there. No, their careers are ruined, the tabloids must be exploding, four models busted for drinking and drugs.  

 

His head shot up as the door opened.  A red haired male popping his head in.

 

“Oh good you’re awake,” the doctor’s lips curled.  He was tall and lanky, eyes wide. It made Sugawara shiver slightly as the male nearly skipped into his room.

 

“Are you really a doctor?” the model asked the male sat down in a chair clipboard in hand.

 

“I am,” The doctor sang happily as he looked at his clipboard.  “I’m Doctor Tendou Satori, and this paper says you’re Sugawara Koushi, one of Japan’s top model that is in a relationship with Oikawa Tooru.”

 

“I am.”

 

“It also says here that your drug dealer had been caught, that it was someone from your own company that you were under, did you know that?”

 

“I did.”

 

Tendou whistled, writing down notes on the paper.  “Why did you get into drugs?” 

 

Sugawara pursed his lips.  He didn't want to admit it.  “Because my boyfriend went on a long trip, I was weak when the actor approached me, he told me they would take all my problems away,” he paused looking towards the window.  “And it did, for a while, at first they made me happy, they made me think that he was with me, that the news was wrong, but the drugs began to make me feel bad, I tried to stop but then I felt worse, I needed them...I need them,” his mind processing that the drugs and alcohol were no longer in his body, he suddenly felt itchy.  

 

“You could have overdosed, it a miracle you didn’t with how much drugs and alcohol was consumed, you are very lucky to be alive,” The doctor hummed a bit too cheerfully.

 

“How long do I have to stay here?” the model asked rather annoyed by how the doctor was acting, did he think of him as a child.

 

“We can’t release you, you’ll be taken to a rehab center where you will be treated and helped for your addiction--”

 

“And if I refuse.”

 

“Do you not want help?”

 

Suga bit his lip.  No, he didn’t want help because then he’d have to face reality alone.  He couldn’t do that. “I do,” the words slipped from his mouth, looking defeated.  “But where will I go after that.”

 

“Your friends will be here to talk to you about that I’m sure, they’re here for the ones you came with too...now, I need to start your regular check up, the other tests results should be here shortly, can you please sit up?”

 

Sugawara pursed his lips into a straight line.  What friends? He had no one outside Akaashi, Oikawa and Kenma.  

 

Unless..

 

* * *

 

Oikawa didn’t want to be here.  Oikawa especially didn’t want to be at this hospital.  He clenched his fists staring at the doctor across the room.  “I don’t need help from you,” he snarled the male looking back at him, holding the clipboard in his crossed arms.

 

“Saving you doesn’t mean I’m asking you to not hate me, I’m just doing my job, you’re making it difficult,” the male held a stern face as he walked over towards the bed, ignoring the model’s shouts of telling him to stay where he was.  

 

“Sorry,  _ Doctor _ Ushijima, I would just rather have a different doctor that isn’t a prick,” the model put emphases on doctor, watching the man’s face never change.  That pissed him off more. “I asked for your help a long time ago after we first met and you didn’t do anything, and now that I was sent here your going to try and play hero as if I didn’t try to kill myself all those years ago, and you didn’t help.”

 

The doctor stood, his face never changing, not wanting to show the effects of the model’s words.  He had to stand tall. “I couldn’t step in at that time, I was only a student job shadowing, I couldn’t speak of the situation...all I could do was keep you company and befriend you.”

 

Oikawa scoffed looking down at his hands. “Befriend me?  You couldn’t even keep in touch with me, you were too busy, just like…” he drifted, his voice quieting down, just like his ex-boyfriend, his ex-childhood friend.  

 

“You were busy too,” Ushijima spoke more quiet than normal before looking down at his clipboard.  “If you are just going to argue with me then I’m going to tell you everything right now.”

 

“And then you will leave?”

 

The doctor’s face hardened more.  “You were found with three others unconscious at your company’s apartment, the company is going to court as well as the other modeling agency, you will be sent to a rehab center and while there your things will be moved into your friends house,” he told him straight forward.  

 

Oikawa bit the inside of his cheek.  What friend’s house? Akaashi’s? He’s the only one he could think of with a house waiting for him.  “I don’t need your help.”

 

“For you to sink this low...I am in the position to make the rules for you.”

 

“What are you?  My parents?” the model laughed bitterly.  He watched as the doctor moved towards the door, his hand on the handle. 

 

“I should have helped you sooner, but this is how life works, the test results will be back, if there is nothing wrong we will be sending you to the rehab center tomorrow.”

 

Oikawa hissed through his teeth once the doctor left.  He didn’t need help. He didn’t need help from anyone.

 

_ “Tooru, be a good boy for mommy and pose in front of the camera for the nice men,” _

 

_ The child stood in front of the camera.  His eyes scanning over the unfamiliar faces staring at him, watching him.  One came over and helped him pose. He held it as the camera flashed blinding him.  It burned his eyes, he wanted to go home and play with Iwa-chan. He wanted to go home. _

 

_ He watched as they whispered, making pose differently, more flashes came.  He watched the men as they spoke to his mother. He watched as they handed her a check.  “Mommy,” he called out watched as his mother turned to him. _

 

_ “Tooru, be good, mommy will be back soon, these nice men will make sure you are okay.” _

 

_ The child cried, running towards his mother as she walked away.  He sobbed trying to reach her but there were arms stopping him. He screamed for her to come back.  To not leave him alone. _

 

_ She never came back. _

 

_ Oikawa was twelve when he was able to go back to school.  He felt scared as kids whispered around him, he had been in some magazines but not any of the top ones.  He felt scared as some kids glared at him. They must thought he was rich. He yelped as he was shoved onto the ground, his books sliding away from him. _

 

_ “Dirty rich boy!” _

 

_ “You don’t belong here!” _

 

_ “You’re not even cute!” _

 

_ “I heard he doesn’t even live at home!” _

 

_ “I heard his parents left him at the company’s door step!” _

 

_ “Yah!” An angry voice yelled out, the other kids jumping as they turned.  Oikawa looked with them, tears in his eyes, the familiar face flashed in his mind.  “Iwa-chan…” he spoke quietly as the boy scared the other kids off. He watched as their eyes met, his old friend equally shocked. _

 

_ “Oikawa,” Iwaizumi’s jaw was nearly on the floor as he rushed to his friends side, pulling him into a tight hug.  “I went to your house and everything was gone! I thought you left me!” he yelled as the other hugged him back. _

 

_ “My parents left me! I didn’t get the chance to say bye, I don’t even know where they are!” Oikawa hiccuped through his tears as he held his best friend tighter.   _

 

_ “Don’t leave me again!” _

 

_ And he didn’t.  They were classmates throughout high school.  Hands in hands as they walked to where Oikawa’s company apartment was.  They were laughing, before quieting down as they approached the apartment.  There was paparazzi everywhere. Oikawa felt Iwaizumi stiffen, their hands together as one of the girls noticed them, then, the herd came over.  They stepped back, lights and cameras in their faces. _

 

_ “Oikawa is it true you’re gay!  Is this your boyfriend! Does the company know of this!  Why hasn’t it been made public! Any words from your fans you’re going to hurt over this!” _

 

_ His breath quickened, he felt Iwaizumi’s hand leave his own, he turned trying to find his boyfriend but he was gone, pushing past the crowd. _

 

_ He was punished by the company, for allowing his secret relationship to be public.  He was punished for hiding it from them. He was punished for being with a guy and not a female.  He was punished for the sudden drop in stock.  _

 

_ He cried that night as his phone lit up with Iwaizumi’s number.  “Iwa-chan I’m--” he started getting cut off. _

 

_ “I can’t do this anymore,”  Iwaizumi spoke into the phone.  “My parents found out, the school found out, the college I wanted to go to found out, I’m sorry Oikawa, I can’t continue this relationship.” _

 

_ “I’m sorry too,”  Oikawa whispered through his silent tears, the phone going silent.  He pulled his phone away, looking at his now ex-boyfriend, ex-bestfriend’s number, he chewed on his lip as he deleted it from his phone.  He didn’t need him. He didn’t need anyone. _

 

_ That was when he suffered his first suicide attempted.  He had jumped from his window, landing in a bush breaking his fall.  Blood pouring down his face as he stared up at the sky.  _

 

_ He stared at the student in his hospital room.  They didn’t speak, the male was there to keep watch on him.  “I’m fine by myself,” Oikawa muttered, staring up at the ceiling.  “I don’t need a babysitter.” _

 

_ “This is what I was told to do.” _

 

_ “Then look somewhere else, I’m tired of the eyes on me.” _

 

_ “Okay.” _

 

_ Oikawa looked over towards the male, noticing he did look somewhere else.  He was staring out the window instead. “The company abuses me, the company makes me drink even though I’m underage, the company hits me and touches me, yet I’m being released back to them, my words just lay on deaf ears, I bet they’re paying them.” _

 

_ “I have no doubts.” _

 

_ “Can you say something to the high ups?” _

 

_ “I don’t know.” _

 

_ “Give me your phone number, I’ll get evidence.” _

 

_ Oikawa watched as the student hesitated before handing his phone over.  “I’m going to collect evidence and you’re going to help me.” _

 

_ They ended up texting each other.  Once Oikawa was out of the hospital it was harder to see each other.  Harder to hang out. After months their messages stopped, the model stopped sending evidence.  That was when he met Sugawara Koushi, another model caught in a gay scandal. _

 

_ “You want us to be a couple?” _

 

_ “A fake one, think of the publicity.” _

 

_ Oikawa frowned, clenching his fist.  He was angry. _

 

_ That was the first time he had, had drunken angry sex with the other model, who he had found out wasn’t an alcoholic but a druggie.  The sex was rough. The silver haired male on all fours, his chest on the bed as Oikawa bit into his shoulder, thrusting in and out of him without mercy.  Sugawara coming untouched, as he followed behind. _

 

_ They made it a regular thing.  Sex, hopped up on alcohol, drugs and frustration.  That’s when he learned of the death of Sugawara’s boyfriend.  That the “long trip” was his way of coping. His heart ached, his feelings for the model growing over the years.   _

 

Oikawa stared out the window, unsure of when he had started crying.  He lifted his hand up to his face, wiping the tears from his eyes. He wanted to see his friends.  He wanted to know if they were alright.

 

He heard voices shouting outside his room, the emergency alarm going off in the halls.  

 

Were they alright?

 

* * *

 

_ “We lost him again!” _

  
  
  


_ “Keep him on the ventilator!” _

  
  
  


_ “Keep pumping oxygen into his lungs!” _

  
  
  


_ “He’s still not breathing!” _

  
  
  


_ “Jump his heart again!” _

  
  
  


_ “We’re too late!” _

  
  


_ “No we aren’t, keep trying!” _

  
  



	10. You In Me

_ “Kenma can you come downstairs please?  There’s someone I want you to meet!”  _

 

_ Kenma heard his mother call from downstairs.  He groaned, pausing his game of Monster Hunter as he swung his legs over his bed, hopping down.  He moved slowly, hesitantly down the stairs. He leaned around the corner, eye’s meeting his mothers, jumping when she moved, grabbing him gently to pull him over.  He hid behind her, peeking out, he saw an older man, around his mother’s age, smiling as he talked. Movement behind the man caught his attention. A boy maybe his age, maybe a little bit older, poked his head out behind the man.   _

 

_ They stared at each other, frozen until Kenma’s eyebrows knitted together, seeing the boy’s wild hair.  Strange, the boy was strange.  _

 

_ “Kenma, this is Kuroo Tetsurou, he just moved next door so I want you to treat him nicely, why don’t you take him upstairs and show him your games?” His mother smiled softly, patting the younger behind her.  “Sorry, Kenma is a very shy boy, but I’m sure they’ll get along great.” _

 

_ “Tetsurou is outgoing once he’s familiar with you, I’m sure he’ll be the perfect friend for Kenma,” the man spoke, smiling wide. _

 

_ Kenma kept his eyes trained on the boy before leaving to head up stairs, turning back to look at the other boy to see if he was following.  He tilted his head, watching him jump when the older guy pushed him to follow.  _

 

_ It was awkward, playing in silence as they played multiple rounds of the same game.  “This isn’t fun for you is it?” he asked looking at Kuroo sitting on his knees on the floor, his head down.  “What game do you like to play?” _

 

_ It was the first mistake he made as a child.  He yelped as the volleyball came down on his arms, it burned.  His arms were red and purple, they hurt, they burned, why would anyone want to play a game like this.  He was tired, he was sweaty. Kenma coughed into his fist, his friend rushing over to him. _

 

_ “Are you okay?” Kuroo asked, taking the younger’s wrist pulling towards him, seeing all the marks.  “It’s just some internal bleeding, it’ll go away soon!” _

 

_ Kenma bit his lower lip, pulling his sleeves down.  Internal bleeding? That sounded cool. He followed the older down the road.  Watching him chase a bird as they made there way down to a small park. There were other children there causing them to hold on to each other, keeping to themselves. _

 

_ The younger felt a shiver run down his spine, like someone was watching him.  He turned, hearing the snap of a camera. His eyebrows knitting together. _

 

_ “Kenma!” _

 

_ Kenma turned back to his friend, gasping when the volleyball was pressed against his head.  “I thought someone was watching us,” he spoke quietly looking down at the ground, kicking at the grass. _

 

_ “Well there are people here, someone probably was watching us,”  Kuroo hummed looking around. “Or...it was a ghost!” _

 

_ “It wasn’t.” _

 

_ “It could be.” _

 

_ “It isn’t,” the younger’s lips twitched into a smile as they passed the volleyball around until the sun started to go down and they were the last ones at the park. _

 

_ Kenma kept a tight hold on Kuroo’s hand as they walked down the road, turning his head behind him, there was a black car behind them.  “Kuro, they’re following us,” he tugged on his friends hand, his heart beating faster as he turned back to look at his friend. _

 

_ Kuroo frowned looking back.  “Who’s following us?” he asked confused. _

 

_ The younger frowned.  “What do you mean, that car…” his voice trailed off when he turned back around, no one was there.  “There was a car...Kuro, someone is really following us,” he felt the older pull him closer. _

 

_ “Don’t worry I’ll protect you!” _

 

* * *

__

 

_ Kenma stood by the stairs, he could hear his mother talking to a guy at the door. _

 

_ “We scouted your son at the playground a few days ago, he has model talent, a natural fresh look.” _

 

_ “I’m sorry, my son will not be apart of that lifestyle, he is only eight years old, he needs to focus on school and having fun with his friends.” _

 

_ “Let’s make a deal then.” _

 

_ “No.” _

 

_ “He can come model for us twice a month, see how he does, all money will go to your family during this time, he will not be taken out of school or after school activities.” _

 

_ “My son isn’t a money bank..” _

 

_ “What if we offer you this now.” _

 

_ Kenma watched from stairs.  The guy grabbing a piece of paper from his jacket, he could tell there was writing on it.  He heard his mom ask if they were serious. He heard her accept their offer.  _

 

_ Greed was a terrible sin. _

 

* * *

__

 

The alarm went off in the hospital, the nurses rushing into the hospital room.  

 

“He’s having a seizure!”  

 

“Keep the fluids in him!”

 

“We’re losing him again!”

 

“Someone get a doctor in here!”

 

“Keep him alive!”

 

“This can’t be the end.”

 

* * *

 

_ “You’ve been missing school a lot, you didn’t even show up to the volleyball game, we lost by the way,” Kuroo’s voice held annoyance as he looked at his best friend, the model keeping his hood up, having became popular at a young age, he had started going to school less and less, every year his popularity soared.   _

 

_ Until it didn’t. _

 

_ Kenma held onto his phone, texting Kuroo quickly, tears streaming down his face as the phone was ripped from his hands, a punch across his face making him land hard on the ground. _

 

_ “You’re a disgrace to our company!  You’re worthless! You can’t even answer questions properly or please your audience!  Look at how much weight you put on, you’re disgusting!”  _

 

_ The model scrambled to get up, instead the foot of his manager landed on his stomach, tears streaming down the side of his face, tickling his ear as the foot pressed harder. _

 

_ “You know how much money we have lost because of you! You should pay for your services, you slut!” the manager screamed in front of the other company higher ups, as the man stomped on his stomach, knocking the wind out of Kenma.  “Get up!” _

 

_ Kenma struggled to breath as he slowly got up, a hand in his hair pulling him up faster.  The man shoving him onto the desk.  _

 

_ “You’re going to pay for the rest of your life!” the manager yelled pulling at the models clothes, the other’s in the room, helping, holding him down. _

 

_ Kenma was taken somewhere else that night.  He held his jacket closed tightly around his body.  He was roughly dragged from the vehicle, taken up a flight of stairs, tripping on some as they made it to an apartment complex.  The door opened as he was shoved inside. A new phone tossed in with him. _

 

_ “You are to stay in here until a manager comes to take you out.  You are not allowed any food until a manager brings you some, you cannot leave at any time,” the man told him, slamming the door shut. _

 

_ Kenma stayed on the floor.  His body was sore.  _

 

_ He was too late. _

 

_ Kuroo stood at the empty building of where Kenma’s building once was.  His heart tightening as his fiance stood beside him. The company had changed names, changed buildings.  The company was holding his childhood friend captive. “We have to find him.” _

 

_ It became routine for Kenma.  The sex with managers, in return he was given headache and sleeping pills.  His weight had dropped drastically, his bones poking out of shirts. His company telling him how worthless he was, how sick he was.  They would make him eat and watch as he threw it back up before bending him over the table. They mocked him, pulled his dyed hair. _

 

_ He cried every night, he screamed every time he woke up, not taking enough of the sleeping pills to end it.  The years rolled by, his popularity slowly lifted. He was working for a cover, making the models purposely look sick, he wore nearly now makeup, but kept on a jacket to hide that he was sick. _

 

_ He kept to himself as the other models talked, keeping a distance from them. _

 

_ The next year there was a new model in his apartment.  He wanted to scream, to tell him to run, to never come back, but he stayed silent as he scratched and cut at his arms in his room.  He couldn’t do this anymore. _

 

* * *

__

 

Akaashi rubbed his tired eyes as the door to his hospital room opened, Kuroo and Bokuto walking inside.  

 

“Hey,” Kuroo spoke quietly, Bokuto smiling softly behind him.  “I know, you’re probably angry that I went through with the funeral, and taking care of of the housing situation for you and your friends but I...I had to do something after that picture you sent me,” he choked up a bit, the image of Kenma and the other two models, naked with drugs and alcohol around them, Kenma’s extremely skinny body scaring him.

 

“Thank you,”  Akaashi replied, looking at the two, watching their eyes widen as they processed his words.  “Thank you for getting the police to the apartment, thank you for taking care of my mother, thank you.”

 

The couple stood there, before Bokuto coughed.  “It’s nothing, we wanted to make sure everyone is alright, I hope you don’t mind us taking you back to our house...we know you have your house, but, so you don’t feel alone.”

 

The younger stayed silent before nodding, all the shock gone from his body.  “Yeah, I would like that, I’m getting discharged today right?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Akaashi smiled looking down at his hands.  “They won’t let me see the others, will they?” he asked, his smile fading.

 

“No, Oikawa and Sugawara have already been taken to rehab.”

 

“...and Kenma?”

 

Kuroo looked back at Bokuto, a lump in his throat as he turned back to Akaashi.  “I...he...Kenma’s in a coma, they...they’re having a really hard time keeping him alive, I just got word that he had a seizure this morning, any more could be fatal, they don’t even know if he could breath on his own, he...there’s a chance he might not make it,” he choked through the words, a strong hand on his shoulder, He looked back at Bokuto, placing his own hand on top of his, squeezing it.

 

The words hit Akaashi like a train.  He had just lost his mother, he couldn’t lose the other important person he loves.  “You’re joking,” he breathed slowly rising from the bed. “You’re joking!” he yelled out as the two older males looked away, he could see the pain in Kuroo’s eyes, he looked towards Bokuto who looked down.  

 

He felt like his world had ripped in two for a second time, his legs shaking as he stood from the bed.  “Where are my clothes,” his voice hardening as he spotted them on one of the chairs. He walked over not caring about the other two in the room as he changed into his clothes, leaving the hospital gown on the chair.  “I’m going to see him.”

 

“They won’t let you…”

 

“I’m going to see him!”  Akaashi snapped at the two as he pulled open the hospital door.  He needs to see him. He needs to.

 

“Ah, Mr. Akaashi you shouldn’t be out yet,” a nurse gasped seeing the male leave the room.

 

“I’m getting discharged today anyways, I’m fine, where is Kozume Kenma,” he asked harshly, staring at the nurse as Bokuto and Kuroo joined him outside.

 

“I’m sorry, I don’t think Kozume can have visit--”

 

“Where is he!” Akaashi yelled, the people in the hall turning towards them.

 

“L-let me ask,” the nurse bowed, before walking to find the doctor in charge of Kozume Kenma.

 

Akaashi shoved Bokuto’s hand from his shoulder, he didn’t want to be touched, he just wanted to see Kenma.  He watched as the nurse walked towards him, his face hard. 

 

“Follow me,” the nurse squeaked walking past them.

 

The model was first to follow, the other two behind him.  They moved to the more serious side of the hospital. They could hear people crying, bodies covered as they’re wheeled out of their rooms, people screaming in pain.  Akaashi tried to block it all out as they made it to a quieter section, stopping in front of the door.

 

“All we ask is for you to please be quiet and do not touch him.”

 

Akaashi nodded, swallowing a lump in his throat as the door was opened.  He walked in, hearing the beeping of the monitor before looking towards the bed.  He couldn’t stop the sob rip through him, the memories of his mother on the hospital bed flooding his mind, he barely made into the room before falling to his knees, hands covering his face tightly, trying not to make a sound.  

 

He could hear Kuroo behind him, breaking down, holding onto Bokuto.  They had to be quiet, but how could they be quiet with their loved one not moving in front of them.  He took in a deep, shuddered breath, slowly rising to his feet. He forced himself over to Kenma, he forced himself by his bedside.  His hands shaking as he reached out, before pulling them back, holding onto his head. He couldn’t touch, but his love wasn't moving. Why wouldn’t he wake up.  He wanted to take care of him again. He tried so hard. He tried to reach out again his eyes and mouth twitching trying to hold back his cries as his body shook.  He just wanted to hold him. Please.

 

Kuroo watched, a ping of jealousy running through him, seeing Akaashi’s meltdown over his childhood friend.  His first love. He bit his lip, holding Bokuto closer, feeling his boyfriend kiss the side of his head. This was his first time seeing Kenma in years after finally finding him and he might not get the chance to talk to him, to play with him, he didn’t want to bury his childhood friend, not yet.

 

It happened too fast, the heart monitor spiking, Kenma’s body spasming as the alarm went off, nurses pulling them from the room.  Akaashi screamed, trying to get away from the male nurses pushing him back. He needed to hold him, he needed to tell him everything’s okay.  “Kenma!” he screamed as the nurse got him past the door, shutting it in his face. He panicked trying to open the door as hands grabbed him, falling to the ground as Kuroo and Bokuto wrapped themselves around each other.

 

They cried together, holding each other tight as nurses ran in and out of the door.  They hugged each other tighter hearing one nurse scream at another. 

 

“You guys should come to the waiting area,” a male nurse whispered, touching the trio on the floor, coaxing them apart.  “Kozume will be fine, he’s in good hands, let’s go somewhere so we aren’t in the way,” he added, helping the males up. 

 

Akaashi sat on the chair, eyes dazed as he stared at the wall.  He ignored the couple beside him, making small talk with each other.  A small tear rolling down his face, he couldn’t lose Kenma, he hasn’t even said goodbye to his mom.  He can’t say goodbye to Kenma, not yet. He wanted to be together with him, and meet back up with Oikawa and Sugawara.  He wondered if they knew what had happened. Probably not.

 

“We should go home,” Bokuto whispered, watching as Kuroo and Akaashi both looked at him as he got up.  “We can rest, and clear our minds in peace there,” he added holding his keys, surprised that both got up.

 

“The first call we get about Kenma, I’m coming back,”  Akaashi told him, wiping his face with his arm. He felt Kuroo staring at him, something off.  He shrugged it away, they were all emotionally strained and the air was tense.

 

“Of course.”

**Author's Note:**

> lilserket.tumblr.com  
> lilserketfics.tumblr.com


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